


The Lies Behind The Truth

by TigereyesF



Category: Thranduil - Fandom
Genre: Angry Thranduil, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arguing, Broken Female, Caring Thranduil, Comfort Sex, Crying, F/M, Healing & Caring, Heartbroken Thranduil, Lies & Deceit, Oral Sex, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Thranduil Love, Thranduil Wants To Behead Everybody, Vaginal Sex, Vengeful Thranduil, comments welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 05:23:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 32
Words: 83,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13357401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigereyesF/pseuds/TigereyesF
Summary: Tora is an elf who finds herself at the mercy of both an imprisoned orc and King Thranduil after she ends up being thrown in the dungeons. Not trusting him after what she has been told, she shies away from him and is reluctant to interact. He gradually wears her down, discovering someone who deeply intrigues him and awakens feelings he thought he would never feel again. Her clever wit and backchat draw him closer and closer, until he can't help but fall head over heels in love, despite knowing she holds a massive secret from him.Tragedy strikes and threatens to tear them apart forever, and Thranduil fights the battle of his life to mend a relationship that might be shattered beyond his reach. Can he fix the bond between them, or will he lose her forever?





	1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

 

Flickering candles cast a dim light amongst the shadows of the dark passageway, a slight breeze toying with the flames. Tall pillars reached up into the cavernous roof, intricate carved vines twisting up around them as they climbed towards the dark heaven above them.  
Legolas hurried through the passage, a frown heavy over his eyes. He breathed heavily as his pace picked up to a little under a run.  
Elbowing open the doors to one of the magnificent hallways, he came to a stop.  
“Father, there is something you should be aware of,” he said, panting to get his breath back.  
Thranduil turned slowly, fixing his son with a cold stare. “Speak.”  
“There is a commotion down in the dungeons,” he said. “There is a female elf and an orc. The guards are placing wagers on how long it will take the orc to kill her.”  
Thick, heavy eyebrows came down over pale blue eyes. “I know nothing of this,” he said sharply. “There should not be any females down in the dungeons.”  
“I have just come to be aware of it myself,” Legolas told him.  
“Is this elf one of ours?”  
He shook his head. “I do not think so. I think she may be a prisoner.”  
Thranduil took a deep breath. “Very well. I shall deal with this. You may go,” he said, moving past his son and sweeping through the open doors.  
Long strides took him through the miles of dark passages down towards the dungeons, where the air was cooler. Dark shadows danced in the flickering light, giving the vast cavern an even more eerie feel.  
He halted on the top ridge, his hands resting on the low stone wall, his gaze fixed on the scene below him.  
*****  
Tora’s body crashed against the hard stone wall behind her, knocking the air out of her lungs. The orc stomped towards her, lifting her clean off the floor, and threw her against the opposite wall.  
The stonework around her began to spin and blur out of focus.  
She kicked up with both booted feet and caught him in the chest, sending him staggering back a few steps, enough for her to roll to the side and spring to her feet. The sounds of the guards jeering and whooping rang in her ears, along with the thundering of her heartbeat.  
Ignoring both, she circled, keeping the orc in her sight. He too circled, watching for her to let her guard down. The beast’s horrible eyes held hers, neither of them flinching away from the other.  
She leapt back with a bounce as he swiped a closed fist and narrowly missed her. Ducking away from the intended blow, she turned and fled.  
A scream tore itself from her as he grabbed a fistful of her hair, dragging her to a stop, and she fell to her knees. Another scream of pain sounded as a solid punch hit between her shoulder blades and sent her down onto the stone floor.  
The guards continued to holler.  
Rolling over onto her back, she sprung to her feet and ran at the orc, her head connecting with his solar plexus and driving him backwards into the wall. Using all her remaining strength, she elbowed, kicked, and punched as hard as she could, determined this foul creature would not end her life today.  
A strong hand gripped her throat and forced her away, the other hand lifting and connecting with her right cheekbone. Her head snapped back with the force of impact, and her body went limp.  
The beast dropped her, laughing maniacally as he circled her on her knees. Feeling her strength ebb away, she slowly lifted her eyes to his, knowing her death was imminent.  
The guards had fallen silent.  
The orc pulled his lips back in a vile sneer as he drew a fist back, ready to strike.  
She screamed as something soft brushed against her back, and in the same second a huge sword swiped above her. The orc froze, then his head rolled off his shoulders and thumped onto the floor at his feet. His body toppled over.  
Tora panted heavily, frozen in fear and shock.  
The corpse before her twitched with the aftershocks.  
She couldn’t move if her life depended on it, as she felt someone move behind her. Daring to look up, she watched a tall elf with impossibly long, straight blond hair walk around her, coming to stop before her. His gaze was fixed on the orc’s corpse, and he viciously stamped on it once to stop it from moving.  
The shuddering body went still.  
Pale blue eyes lifted to meet hers, and her heart almost stopped.  
The silence was deafening.  
_Thranduil the Elven King _.__  
He stared at the elf cowering on the floor, reading the terror in her eyes. Blood ran freely from several wounds which had been inflicted on her face, her neck, and her arms. Her hair was tousled, her clothing torn in places. Dirt streaked her sporadically, along with dust from the stone floor.  
He could see her pulse beating rapidly on the side of her neck through streaks of blood, could see her gasping to breathe. He could also see she was terrified beyond anything else.  
Slowly re-sheathing his sword, he rounded the dead orc, coming to a halt before her and extending his left hand. “You have nothing to fear,” he said.  
Her heart continued to pound. Dropping her gaze to the hand he offered, she swallowed. Faced with no other options, she slowly reached up and took it, her hand trembling as she did so.  
Warm, strong fingers wrapped around hers and pulled her to her feet.  
The strength in those fingers surprised her as he turned and led her away, still holding her hand. She followed in silence, hurrying to keep up with his strides. Every part of her ached, and she used her free hand to try and wipe the blood from a gash on her forehead from going into her eyes.  
He said nothing as they crossed the raised walkway through the dungeon area and passed through endless passageways. They passed numerous heavy wooden doors as they walked, each one closed.  
Finally, he drew her to a halt outside one particular door, opening it and leading her inside.  
She found herself in a reasonably large room carved into the rock, with pillars extending to the high roof, similar to what she had already seen. Large windows lined one wall, allowing for bright sunlight to blaze through, hurting her eyes.  
She squinted away from the harsh light, turning her body away slightly.  
Thranduil moved around, searching for something. She cast her eyes around, absorbing her surroundings. Wooden units had been built along the length of one wall, with ornate carvings on the doors. A large table sat in the middle of the floor.  
She watched him locate what he seemed to be looking for, turning to the table and placing two wooden bowls and two containers onto the surface, and wondered what he had planned for her.  
He lifted his eyes to hers, and she immediately dropped her gaze to the floor.  
“Sit up here,” he said, patting the table.  
She inhaled silently, stepping over to the centre of the room. An involuntary gasp left her as he placed both hands on her waist and lifted her up to sit. She let out a cry of pain, shying away from him.  
Frowning, he stared at her for a moment, before roughly tugging the waistband of her trousers down a little, revealing a large bruise the size and shape of a footprint on her hip. Saying nothing, he let the fabric settle against her.  
She swallowed, keeping her eyes on the stone floor.  
Staying silent, he took some soft cotton squares from one of the bowls, squeezing the excess water and dipping it into one of the containers. With gentle, careful strokes, he cleaned the blood from the wound above her eye, followed by the one on her cheek. He wiped the blood away from her nose, the cut on her mouth, the torn skin below her ear. Several times he discarded the cotton, using fresh pieces as he worked in silence.  
She remained as still as a statue, with her feet crossed under the edge of the table, scared to breathe.  
The minutes ticked past. His administrations were gentle, but she flinched in pain several times.  
He hesitated slightly as he cleaned a streak of blood, which ended on her chest, just above the swell of her breasts. His gaze dropped briefly, the torn top giving him a clear view of her cleavage. Clenching his teeth, he washed the dried blood away.  
Turning his attention to her hands and arms, he patiently cleaned both of them, before dropping the final piece of blood-stained fabric. He turned to the second container, scooping out a clear paste, and carefully applied it to each injury. It was cool and seemed to slightly numb each one.  
Still she said nothing.  
Once he had finished, he lowered the waistband of her trousers again, and spread the paste onto the bruise, his hand on her abdomen to hold her in place as she squirmed away from his touch.  
Heaving a quiet sigh, he repositioned the material and stepped away to wash his hands.  
Her heart continued to pound as he stood a few feet in front of her, his arms crossed over his chest. “Why do you fear me?” he asked.  
She said nothing.  
“Do you have a name?”  
No reply.  
He pursed his mouth as he studied her for a few moments. “Very well,” he said decidedly. “I suppose returning to the dungeons will give you time to think of one.” He turned away.  
“My name is Tora,” she said quietly.  
He turned back. “Tora,” he repeated softly, the name rolling off his tongue. “Why do you refuse to look at me, Tora?”  
She clenched her teeth, refusing to look up.  
He waited.  
Swallowing, she spoke after a few seconds. “The guard said anyone who looks at you or speaks to you is killed.”  
Thick dark lashes blinked over light blue eyes. He stepped forwards, tipping her chin up with one hand and forcing her to look at him. Terrified blue eyes met his.  
“Was that so difficult?” he asked, his voice like velvet. “You are still alive, are you not?”  
“Yes,” she whispered, tears of fear welling in her eyes.  
He let her go and stepped back. “Then let us disregard what the guard had to say,” he said. “I want to know why you are here, why you ended up in my dungeons.”  
She swallowed again, her gaze back on the floor, and he wondered if she would answer.  
“I was found by the guard as I was crossing through the forest,” she said eventually, her voice low. “He said I was trespassing, and I told him I needed to speak with you. He refused, and told me no-one speaks to the King without an appointment.”  
“Go on,” he prompted as she stopped.  
“He brought me here and imprisoned me. That’s it.”  
He changed position, resting his right elbow on his folded arm, his chin balanced on the thumb of that hand. “When was this?”  
“Two days ago,” she answered.  
A heavy silence filled the air.  
Two days was inexcusable to hold anyone prisoner without him being notified, more so when it was an elf. Even more so when it was a female elf.  
“How did the situation with the orc come about?” he questioned.  
She shook her head. “I do not know,” she said. “I woke up and the cell door was open. I went out and he was just...there. Waiting for me. You saw the rest.”  
He studied her as she sat motionless, her hands gripping the edge of the table where she sat. Her long, jet-black hair swept down her back and hung over her shoulders. Her deep blue eyes were stubbornly focused on the floor, her beautiful face scarred. “Why did you wish to speak with me?” he asked.  
She finally shifted, reaching down the front of her top and producing a folded piece of parchment.  
He swallowed, her movement drawing his gaze back to her enticing cleavage.  
She held the document towards him, and he hesitated before stepping forwards and taking it from her.  
She dared to look at him as he unfolded the paper, heat rearing to life inside her as his eyes met hers, before dropping to what he held in his hands.  
She waited.  
He frowned, taking slow, leisurely paces across the floor and back again as he read what was written. The frown disappeared and a smirk appeared, revealing a dimple on his left cheek.  
She frowned, irritated at noticing it.  
Finally, he stopped, fixing her with his penetrating stare. “The guard who brought you here,” he said. “Did he hurt you?”  
She hesitated. Wrong move.  
She jumped in fright as he swooped down in front of her.  
“Did he hurt you?” he repeated.  
Paralysed in fear, she couldn’t answer.  
He leaned back, his cold eyes daring her to look away. “The bruise on your hip – it is not a footprint from an orc, neither is it a footprint from an elf. It is human.” He extended one hand, his fingers brushing the torn neckline of her top. “Did he force himself upon you?”  
“No,” she said, heat rising to colour her cheeks.  
One eyebrow lifted. “He tried?”  
“He was not successful,” she answered, and he knew that was all she was going to say on the subject. He released the fabric from between his fingers, stepping back.  
“Your injuries will be gone by sunrise,” he said, turning away and pacing the room. “I would suggest you bathe, and I will send for you.”  
Her eyebrows lifted in surprise.  
Cold blue eyes met hers as he stopped pacing, and she looked away.  
His nostrils flared in annoyance at her reluctance to look at him. He crossed over to the door, opening it and calling to a guard somewhere down the corridor, issuing a command before returning. “I will allocate someone to tend to you,” he told her as he stepped back inside. “While you are bathing, I will get to the bottom of the incident with the orc. I shall let you know the outcome when I send for you.”  
“Thankyou,” she said. “For what you are doing, and for saving my life.”  
The faintest smile lingered at the corners of his lips. “You are welcome,” he murmered.  
The arrival of a maid drew his attention, and he commanded her to assist Tora with bathing and to be given fresh clothing.  
She nodded and bowed in respect, before holding her arm out to usher her through the doorway.  
Tora slid herself from the table, following the maid.  
Thranduil watched them leave, turning things over in his mind. He wanted answers. And he wanted to know exactly why she was in his realm.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

 

Tora stretched out in the deliciously warm water, heaving a sigh of contentment. Aria, the maid, had drawn hot water for her and added copious amounts of fragranced oils, filling the room with the heavenly scent of flowers. Having shooed her away so she could have some privacy, Tora had washed her hair and was enjoying a few moments just relaxing.  
“M’lady, I have some clothing you may wish to choose from,” Aria’s voice called through from the adjoining room.  
“I’m on my way,” she called back, rising to her feet and wrapping a towel around her. She twisted another towel up around her hair, and stepped from the sunken pool.  
“You look much better already, m’lady,” the maid said with an approving smile.  
“Please, my name is Tora,” she replied.  
Aria looked horrified. “Oh m’lady, the King would have my head if I called you by name,” she gasped.  
Tora frowned. “What the King doesn’t know about, he cannot complain about,” she replied. She tipped her head forwards and rigorously dried her hair. “That feels so much better,” she sighed in pleasure, a smile on her lips.  
Aria smiled too, her pleasant face lighting up. “It’s amazing how good you can feel after bathing,” she commented. “What do you think of the clothing?”  
Tora lifted her head and whipped her hair aside, glancing in the direction the maid had indicated. An assortment of different coloured tops and trousers were laid out on the large bed, and she smiled as she stepped towards one in particular. “I love this colour,” she murmered, holding one of the tops up for inspection. It was the softest fabric she had ever touched, a beautiful peach colour.  
“It will look beautiful on you, m’lady,” Aria observed with approval.  
“Aria!” she said sharply, although her eyes conveyed no hostility.  
“I’m sorry...Tora,” she said with a laugh. “Honestly, King Thranduil would be so angry..!”  
“He will have no need to be angry,” she replied, quickly towelling herself dry. Aria busied herself as she dressed, choosing a pair of tight black trousers that hugged the curves of her thighs.  
Sweeping her long hair over one shoulder, she went back to drying it, before Aria handed her a brush.  
“Would you like me to braid your hair?” she offered.  
Tora shook her head. “No, I don’t really braid it that often,” she replied. “Thankyou anyway.”  
The two shared a smile, as loud knocking came on the closed door.  
Aria hurried over to open it, revealing one of the guards.  
“The King is ready for your presence,” he informed Tora, with a slight bow.  
“Thankyou,” she said, quickly brushing her hair and setting the brush down before stepping past the maid. “Thankyou for your help, Aria.”  
“My pleasure,” she smiled. “Call me whenever you require my assistance.” She left the room and went in the opposite direction from where the guard was leading her.  
He stopped outside a pair of grand wooden doors, again with intricate carvings, and knocked before pushing them open. “M’lady,” he said, bowing as she entered.  
She barely noticed the doors closing behind her as she stepped inside a vast open space, the detail taking her breath away. She was surrounded by raised walkways, steps everywhere, and huge pillars that seemed to be a recurrent feature in the Mirkwood halls. Following the path before her, she slowly ascended stone steps leading her along another walkway towards more steps.  
Sitting high up on his throne, Thranduil watched her approach. He smiled slightly at the wonder on her face, her eyes taking everything in as she slowly made her way towards him. He wondered how it looked through the eyes of one who had never been inside the palace before.  
She finally caught sight of him, her heart leaping in her chest.  
Perched high up on his throne, framed by massive elk antlers, he looked every bit the majestic ruler he was. One knee was casually folded over the other, drawing her attention to his muscled thigh which was lovingly caressed in light grey trousers.  
She stopped as he rose, slowly descending the steps towards her. He too had changed, she noticed. Gone was the flowing dark red velvet robe he had worn earlier, and in its place was a light grey tunic with silver threads catching the light of the candles. A heavy robe of the same fabric was left carelessly on his throne, lined with a deep orange fabric.  
He stepped off the bottom step and stood before her, watching her like a predator. “I have narrowed my search down to two guards,” he told her. “Both are human.”  
She nodded, not knowing how to respond.  
“I will bring both in, one at a time. Do not worry, they shall not be aware of your presence,” he added as fear flashed across her eyes. “What I expect is a signal as to which one it was who brought you here and ill-treated you.”  
“I can do that,” she told him.  
He smiled ever so slightly. “You look much better now,” he observed.  
“I feel much better,” she replied. “Again, I owe you my thanks.”  
He dismissed her words with a wave of his hand. “Formalities,” he said. “There is much to be done. I assume you are able to do this?”  
She lifted her chin stubbornly. “Yes.” Her voice was strong, but not quite as strong as she had intended.  
He noticed.  
“No further harm shall come to you, Tora,” he said softly.  
The goosebumps on her flesh rose to life at his voice.  
She nodded in acknowledgement as she swallowed, trying to alleviate her nervousness.  
“I suggest you remain out of sight, probably over there,” he said, pointing towards a pair of pillars which stood proudly at the edge of the flat area where they stood. “You will not be seen from there.”  
Tearing her gaze from his, she walked over to the pillars, which were large in circumference and would shield her from view.  
A few moments later, one of the guards appeared, his hurrying footsteps echoing around the vast space.  
Thranduil kept his gaze on her until the guard approached.  
“I have but a few queries regarding a prisoner,” he told him, as the man came to a stop and bowed to him.  
“Yes, my Lord,” he replied.  
Thranduil’s gaze flicked over the guard’s shoulder to Tora, who had a terrified look on her face. He raised his eyebrows and looked back down at the man, content he had the perpetrator. “The elf you found in the woods,” he said, his voice smooth and reassuring.  
“Yes, my Lord.”  
Thranduil slowly walked around him, his hands behind his back. “She is gorgeous, is she not?”  
Tora’s face heated.  
“I...I suppose so, my Lord,” the guard replied, unsure of what was expected of him.  
“I think so,” Thranduil said with a smirk. “I think there are many who would agree. Many who would like to court her, win her affections. Win her body.”  
“Probably, my Lord,” the guard said.  
Thranduil stood before him, looking down at him with a smirk. “Did you have her?”  
The man stuttered.  
“Such a temptation,” he continued, resuming his slow circling. “Such beauty...just waiting to be touched.”  
Tora glared at him.  
His smirk intensified. “Such a perfect body, just needing to be teased into responding to a man’s touch,” he purred. “The swell of her full breasts...the curve of her strong thighs...long legs that-“  
“Yes, I had her, my Lord,” the guard interrupted, clearly uncomfortable.  
Tora’s eyes widened in shock. What a _liar _!__  
“How was she?” Thranduil whispered, close to his ear as he passed. “Did she resist?”  
The man shifted from one foot to the other.  
“The scar on her left breast,” Thranduil said decidedly, coming to a halt in front of his guard. “Did you give her that?”  
“I...my Lord...” he stammered.  
“Did she tease you? Did she refuse you at the last minute? Did she deserve it?”  
His taunting voice inflamed her. What the hell was he doing?  
“Yes!” the guard said. “She deserved it. All of it.”  
Thranduil smirked again, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “There is no scar.” His eyes lifted to her, fixing on her bust, before lifting to meet her eyes. “Her breasts are perfect.” He walked backwards, with an arrogant smile. “Where _does _your lying end?”__  
She took a deep breath, annoyed at the way he had chosen to toy with the guard and tricking him into revealing his true colours.  
He paced back and forth for a few moments, before swinging his body around to face the now disgraced guard, the tail of his long tunic swirling around his calves. “You imprisoned an elf without my knowledge or consent,” he said, his voice completely different. Gone was the coaxing, teasing tone, and in its place were steel words. Cold, angry eyes stared at the man before him. “You imprisoned a _female _without my knowledge or consent, therefore not giving me the opportunity to question her. You were violent with her. You tried to force yourself upon her. You placed wagers with other guards on how long it would take the imprisoned orc to end her life.”__  
The guard stood with his head lowered.  
Tora leaned against the pillar, her arms folded, intrigued by the change in the ruler who stood towering above his employee.  
“You shall return to the dungeons you have been supposedly guarding and will remain there as my guest until I decide your fate,” he said coldly, and a wave of his hand brought over two guards she hadn’t even been aware were there.  
They each grabbed an arm and dragged the terrified man away, ignoring his shouts and pleas for mercy.  
Thranduil watched them leave, before turning to her. “A result,” he said smoothly.  
“That was a little personal,” she remarked, still uncomfortable with his observations.  
An eyebrow lifted as he smirked yet again. “It worked, did it not?”  
She nodded reluctantly. “At my expense.”  
“Not at all. I said nothing but a few words which may comfort him during the long, dark times down in the cells,” he said. “You must be hungry...were you given food since you were brought here?”  
She shook her head.  
His eyes displayed anger. “Sometimes I question the decision of my ancestors to associate themselves with humans,” he muttered. He extended an arm, motioning her to follow him.  
She heaved her weight off the pillar and followed, wondering what on earth the future had in store for her.  
*****  
Thranduil remained fairly quiet as they ate, so she did likewise. The meal his servants had placed in front of them had been heaven sent, and she leaned back in her chair as she finished, thinking she had never eaten anything as delicious in her life.  
“I offer my apologies for the way in which you have been treated,” he said, finally breaking the silence.  
She met his gaze, and read genuine honesty in the light blue depths. “There is no need,” she replied. “You can’t control something you did not know was happening.”  
“Nevertheless, it is my place to know everything,” he said. “No-one should be imprisoned without my knowledge, or before I have had the chance to question them. The guards know this. I do not know why they broke the rules.” His grip tightened briefly on the goblet of wine in his hand. “The others who were involved have been punished.”  
She placed her elbows on the edge of the table, clasping her hands and resting her chin on them. “I shall begin my return to where I came from, immediately,” she said. “I do not wish to impose on your hospitality any longer.”  
He studied her thoughtfully. “You did not read the missive?”  
Her eyes widened in shock. “No, I did not.”  
He smiled. “Such honesty,” he murmered, shaking his head. He produced the parchment she had given him from the folds of his cloak and pushed it towards her.  
Eyeing him with sense of being unsure, she unfolded it, to reveal familiar handwriting.  
"My dear King Thranduil,  
I send to you my loyal aide, with the hope that you can take care of her as times ahead are uncertain. I have a journey to make and cannot guarantee her safety, which is why I ask you to give her a place in the palace until I return for her. I do not know how long I shall be away, but you will know as soon as I am able to return.  
Tora is highly skilled in cryptology and translation, speaking several languages. I hear that your personal aide has departed, and am certain she could fill that role albeit temporarily. She is loyal and trustworthy, and I trust her with my life. You can do likewise.  
Please convey my apologies for not informing her, as I am sure you may well be met with some resistance I know she would have refused to enter Mirkwood had she known my intentions for sending her there.  
May this find you in good health and happiness.  
Gandalf."  
The document fluttered from her fingers and floated to the table, as she sat, stunned.  
“What has he done?” she whispered, raising shocked eyes to Thranduil.  
“You know as much as I do,” he replied, indicating the parchment. “He did not say anything of a quest before he sent you?”  
She shook her head, her eyes blurring with tears. “No, he didn’t.”  
“No doubt he will be gone trying to redeem his usual practice of good against evil,” he pondered. “So much darkness still lurks across these lands, and he must do his part in pushing that darkness back.”  
She swallowed, struggling to get herself back together. “I can’t believe he has done this,” she said, gazing down at the parchment.  
“He does make one valid point,” Thranduil decided, leaning sideways and resting his elbow on the back of his seat. “My personal aide is otherwise unavailable to me, although I wonder how he came to know of that.” His eyebrows came down in a frown. “Nevertheless, if I am to do the favour requested by a friend, then maybe you should consider filling the vacant position.”  
She sighed. “I believe I have no choice,” she said.  
He laughed, although only briefly. “Everyone has a choice,” he told her, his eyes turning serious. “Well?”  
A faint smile tugged at her mouth. “I graciously accept,” she replied.  
“Good,” he said with a nod. “The room where you bathed...that will be yours while you are here. Aria will be at your disposal. I expect punctuality at all times, and professionalism. If you are as skilled as Mithrandir expects me to believe, then you should not have a problem.”  
“I am more skilled,” she told him. “And I won’t have a problem.”  
Cold blue eyes watched her. “You can begin at sunrise,” he said. “Meanwhile, if you are finished, will you accompany me to the gardens? I wish to know more of your background.”  
“Of course,” she said, pushing herself to her feet as he rose gracefully.  
How did someone so tall move with such grace and poise? Forcing her wandering thoughts to the back of her mind, she followed him, admiring his perfect long hair as it swept down his back.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

 

The warm breeze toyed with the ends of Tora’s hair as she walked beside Thranduil, whose long, slow strides took them in the direction of an ornate wooden bench surrounded by flowers and shrubs.  
Stopping before it, he indicated for her to sit, before folding his cloak around himself and lowering himself down.  
“So,” he said, turning his hypnotic eyes to hers. “What lies behind Tora?” A slight smirk of amusement tweaked at the edge of his lips.  
“Not a lot, I’m afraid,” she replied, crossing one knee over the other as she turned slightly to face him. “I have no family, and found myself working alongside Gandalf in the aftermath of the war in which Thorin died.”  
“I remember it well,” he said, turning to gaze out across the lush, colourful gardens. “A lot of blood was spilt that day.”  
“I wasn’t present at that point,” she said. “I arrived a few days afterwards, during the...cleanup, for lack of a better word.”  
“How did you come to be there?” he asked, his sharp gaze returning to hers.  
“I freelance my skills,” she answered. “Word reached me of what had happened at Erebor, and I went along to see if I could help.”  
“Honourable,” he murmered.  
“Gandalf sort of became my mentor after that,” she said. “He worked with me through lots of different languages, helping me to grasp what I didn’t already know, re-familiarise myself with what I had forgotten. I travelled with him after that.”  
“Why do you refer to him by the human translation of his name?”  
She shrugged. “We spend so much time around the hobbits, humans, and the dwarves, and that is what they call him,” she said. “He seems comfortable enough with it.”  
“But you are elvish, not hobbit or human,” he said.  
“True. But if you spend enough time around a set of people, you tend to pick up their uses of language, different words, different phrases,” she replied. “It’s unavoidable.”  
“Where did you learn to defend yourself?” Curiosity was getting the better of him, having seen her fight the orc.  
Her gaze shifted away from his. “Here and there,” she answered. “Survival.”  
Silence settled over them.  
“You really believed what the guard told you?” he asked eventually, breaking the stillness.  
She looked back at him. “About what?”  
“Not looking at me, or speaking to me,” he said. His blue eyes held her prisoner.  
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Maybe. Probably. I didn’t know what to believe.”  
He shook his head as he looked away, a small smile present. “People spend their entire existence inventing nonsense,” he decided.  
“You do have a reputation,” she told him.  
One eyebrow lifted in question. “Of?”  
She smiled, uncrossing her knees and crossing the other one over. “Being distant, unapproachable. Cold.”  
His smile widened slightly. “I am aware of this. Yet if you listen to gossip, I breathe more fire than Smaug was ever capable of.”  
She laughed. “Gossip is there to be laughed at, then discarded,” she said. “It serves no purpose.”  
“Save the pleasure of its originator,” he said softly.  
“Maybe not even that,” she replied. “People have twisted minds, twisted natures. What they choose to do with them is usually at the price of others’ happiness.”  
“Spoken by one who has borne the brunt of such actions,” he observed.  
“Not particularly. More like one who has watched and learned,” she corrected him.  
The breeze lifted the ends of his hair, drawing her gaze to the magnificent length of it. Turning away, she focused instead on a large shrub a few feet from her.  
“Your gardens are breathtaking,” she said.  
“Thankyou,” he replied. “I spend a lot of time out here, thinking, sorting through things. It is quiet, and I find a sense of peace and tranquillity when I am here.”  
“That is something seldom found,” she said.  
“Where do you find peace and tranquillity?”  
Deep blue eyes met his. “I don’t.”  
He frowned in confusion.  
“I live each day as it happens, and I accept what happens in any such day,” she explained. “I expect the following day to bring something new. Therefore I have no need to seek refuge.”  
His mouth pursed as he considered her philosophical words.  
“I think I shall retire for the night,” he said, after a while. “I shall send for you at sunrise, when we will have breakfast and then begin your first day of work.”  
“I look forward to it,” she told him, and rose to her feet. She walked past him and he stood from the bench.  
“Sleep well, Tora,” he said.  
She smiled over her shoulder. “Likewise.”  
*****  
The following morning, she was awake, up, bathed, and dressed before Aria knocked on the bedroom door.  
“Oh my goodness, someone is eager to start their day,” the cheery elf observed. “Did you rest well?”  
“I did,” she replied, returning the maid’s infectious smile.  
“Good, you’ll probably need it,” she said dryly. “I hear you are to be working alongside the King.”  
Tora nodded, brushing her hair. “Yes. That didn’t sound too good.”  
“He can be...temperamental?..at times,” Aria said carefully. “Be careful around him.”  
Tora grinned at her in the mirror. There weren’t many as temperamental as Gandalf, and she had him eating out of the palm of her hand most days. “I shall tread with care,” she assured her. “Worry not.”  
Aria sighed, planting her hands on her hips. “Three personal aides have quit this year alone,” she said. “And we are only seven moons into the year.”  
Tora replaced the brush, swinging round to face the maid. “I love a challenge,” she said with a wicked grin. “Besides...I owe him my life.” Her grin faded.  
“I heard,” Aria said gently, touching her arm. “I am sorry you went through that. I could hear the King down in the dungeons late last night, screaming and shouting.”  
Tora shrugged. “It’s over and done with,” she said. “In the past. No point in dwelling on it.”  
A knock at the door signalled the end of the discussion, as Aria went to open it.  
Again a guard had been sent for Tora, so she bid farewell to the maid and followed him, down a different corridor this time.  
As before, the guard knocked on a door, waiting until he heard enter before opening it and ushering her inside.  
_Shit _.__  
She was in his private chambers.  
Thranduil whirled round to face her, a look of anger appearing instantly on his face. “I ordered my red robe to be washed and dried, and it is not here,” he said.  
“I will track it down,” she said, before disappearing out of the room again. Hurrying back the way she had come, she bumped into Aria, who was just leaving her room after making the bed.  
“Aria, where would the King’s robes be laundered?” she asked.  
“Follow me,” the maid replied, hurrying her along the passage. They flew down a few flights of steps and along more hallways, before coming to a massive washroom.  
Aria turfed through clean laundry, finally pulling the robe from the contents and presenting it to her.  
“Thankyou, I owe you,” Tora grinned, before running back upstairs.  
She knocked on the door to his chambers, waiting until she had permission before entering. Handing him the robe, she stood waiting further instruction. He flipped the cloak over his shoulders, exclaiming in frustration as he yanked it back before him.  
A large tear presented itself along the hem between the velvet and the lining.  
Holding her hand out, she took it from him with a dry look, leaving the room again.  
Temperamental??  
“Aria!” she called, spying her only ally in one of the halls as she passed. “Needle and thread?”  
“Uh-oh...what happened?” she gasped, hurrying out of the hall towards her.  
“Hell if I know,” she said, holding the cloak up. “He’s angry because it’s been torn.”  
Shaking her head, Aria dived into a cupboard and rooted around, locating a small box of assorted coloured threads and various sizes of sewing needles.  
“Thankyou...again!” Tora said with a laugh, hurrying with it back to his room.  
He turned as she went in without knocking this time, watching in surprise as she sat on the floor and pulled the cloak over her knees. The sewing needle flew through the fabric, and before long, it was as good as new.  
She bit off the end of thread, tossed the needle back into the box and rose to her feet, handing the garment to him.  
He took it from her, eyeing her as he did so. “You did not tell me you could stitch,” he said.  
She returned his stare. “You did not ask. I did say I was more skilled than Gandalf would have you believe.”  
He continued to hold her gaze as he fastened the cloak around his shoulders. “We will have breakfast,” he said, stepping around her to open the door.  
They went through to the room where they had eaten the previous evening, to find the servants had already laid out an assortment of food on the table.  
Thranduil pulled a chair out for her.  
“Thankyou,” she murmered, not sure he should have done so, given his position.  
“I may be the King of these lands, but I do possess manners,” he said dryly, taking a seat adjacent to her.  
She smiled, trying not to laugh. “Am I that transparent?”  
“Yes,” he replied.  
At his indication, she lifted a slice of freshly-baked bread, and spread creamy butter over it. They ate in silence, with her mind pondering what the next few days would hold for her.  
After breakfast, he took her through to a massive hall, where he explained she would take minuted notes of the council meeting due to begin shortly.  
His description of who would attend was interrupted by the arrival of an elf, who had similar blond hair to him, but shorter in length.  
“Legolas...this is Tora, who will be joining us for the meeting,” he said, turning to the newcomer.  
“It is a pleasure to meet you Tora,” Legolas said with a smile, lifting her hand and placing a light kiss on her knuckles. “I assume my father has been treating you well?”  
She hid her surprise. “Yes, he has,” she replied.  
“Good,” he said. “Do not let him bully you around.” He turned his attention to Thranduil. “I passed Veltar in the hallway on the way here, he is not in the best of moods this morning.”  
“I care not,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “He is angry because I will not agree to the changes he suggested in the trade with the people of Lake Town.”  
Legolas rolled his eyes, making her smile discreetly. “If you agree, it will placate him for a while.”  
“I am not in the business of placating anyone,” his father informed him. “Least of all that ill-mannered oaf.”  
“This is going to be an eventful meeting,” Legolas decided. “Tora, if you wish, I shall sit beside you and guide you on who is who, and what their role is here in Mirkwood.”  
“Thankyou, I would appreciate it,” she replied.  
“Did you tend to her wounds, father?” he questioned, a slight frown on his face.  
“Of course,” Thranduil replied with a bored tone.  
“I thought so,” his son grinned. “There is not a trace of what happened.”  
She too had noticed on waking that each and every wound and blemish had completely healed overnight.  
Thranduil had noticed too, her beauty below her previous scars taking his breath away. Hence his attitude when she had appeared in his chambers.  
Legolas led her towards the large polished table as members of the council made their appearance, eight of them in all. He introduced her to them, and they sat down, with the King at the head of the table.  
Armed with clean parchment and a long, shaped piece of lead, Tora scribbled down their names and seating positions before the discussions began.  
*****

____

Thranduil observed Tora throughout the meeting, noticing her discreet smiles as discussions grew heated, an eyebrow twitching at raised voices, a deliberate blank look whenever she lifted her eyes from her writing. Voices rang out from all angles, and from the speed she was writing, she seemed to be catching every word being uttered or shouted. He was interested to see how well she had fared, with this being a more heated meeting than usual.  
Legolas kept an eye on her work, frowning here and there and shaking his head from time to time in confusion.  
Eventually the meeting drew to a close, members storming out muttering to themselves.  
Thranduil sat back and folded his hands across his stomach, a smile of amusement on his face. He turned his head and looked at Tora.  
“Well? May I see?”  
She held up several sheets of paper. “It is shorthand,” she explained at his puzzled look. “I will translate and have it to you by the end of the morning, if I am permitted an hour to do so.”  
He frowned. “I have never seen this style before,” he said, gazing at the indecipherable scrawl.  
“It is faster than writing conventional words,” she told him. “That way, I don’t miss anything being said, as I can take note of it as fast as it is being spoken.”  
“Interesting,” he murmered. He picked up the piece of lead she had worked with. “And this?”  
She grinned. “It saves time dipping into ink and losing what is being said.”  
He turned it round in between his fingers, finding it warm where she had been holding it. He took a deep breath as he placed it back on the table. “I can see you have hidden secrets,” he observed.  
“No more than anyone else,” she said, a slight edge to her tone. “May I be excused to write the notes?”  
He eyed her for a second or two, contemplating her reaction. “You may.”  
She stood and took her notes from him, leaving the hall.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

 

Locked in a game of chess with one of his guards, Thranduil was surprised an hour later when Tora arrived back in the hall, with fresh sheets of parchment.  
She stopped beside him, handing him the documents.  
His eyebrows lifted in visible surprise as he scanned her handwriting, artistic and curved, with perfect precision on who said what, in exact words.  
“Impressive,” he commented, folding the documents and setting them on the table.  
She watched as he turned his attention back to the board in front of him, his eyebrows down in a frown as he concentrated. Biting into an apple, the crunch made him pause and look up at her as he moved to pick up a piece.  
She subtly shook her head once, not breaking his stare.  
He looked back at the board, his frown back in place.  
She smirked to herself.  
He moved his hand again, ready to move a different piece from what he originally had intended to move, but he glanced up at her and again she gave a subtle head shake.  
Sighing in irritation, he opened his mouth to reprimand her, when his gaze caught a more prominent piece on the board. He moved it, gaining an advantage over the guard.  
She smiled and bit into the apple again as she walked away.  
He glared after her.  
*****  
“It definitely seems there is more to you than meets the eye,” he observed later on that day.  
They were seated in the hall where they had dined, an array of paperwork spread out on the table in front of her. Thranduil lounged carelessly in a seat off to one side, watching her as she added and counted, crossing things off her notes and tutting to herself in frustration.  
“There are many strings on my bow,” she replied, not taking her attention from what she was doing. She scribbled furiously.  
“So I am learning,” he purred. “I am curious as to what other secrets I shall discover.”  
She leaned back and rolled stiff shoulders. “I have no secrets,” she said. “I have skills that I put to good use.”  
“I am ahead in my game of chess,” he said.  
“No you are not,” she said, leaning back over her paperwork again. “The guard removed a piece when you turned away.”  
She raised her eyes to his at his silence, to be met with his furious scowl, which made her smile to herself.  
“Is something amusing you?” he demanded.  
“Not in the slightest,” she answered. “And by my calculations, you are twenty two barrels of wine short.” She sat back again, folding her arms.  
He blinked. “That is not possible,” he said.  
“I am only going by what is here,” she said. “The numbers do not tally.”  
“Tally?”  
“Add up,” she said. “You are twenty two barrels down.”  
He shook his head. “You must be wrong. We shall go and count them ourselves,” he said, shifting his weight and standing up.  
Suppressing a sigh, she pushed her paperwork away and stood, following him out of the hall. He swept down several flights of steps, with her hurrying to keep up with him.  
A shriek left her as she slipped off the edge of one of the stone steps, and he instantly whirled around and steadied her.  
“Are you alright?” he asked, his hands on both her upper arms.  
“Yes, thankyou,” she said, flustered. “I slipped on the edge of the step.”  
He slowly released her. “I apologise, I am going too fast.”  
“I can keep up,” she replied, falling into step behind him again. The flesh on her arms burned where he had touched her.  
Upon entering the cellar, Thranduil strode along the rows of barrels, physically counting them himself as he went. “How many should we have?” he asked, turning to her.  
“Sixty three,” she replied.  
He frowned. “Forty one,” he murmered. “I do not understand how that many has gone missing.”  
She yawned, feeling the effects of being at his beck and call the entire day, and he had sent her from one end of the huge palace to the other countless times on different errands.  
He looked at her, noting the shadows under her eyes. “You may retire for the night,” he said softly. “You have proven your worth today.”  
She tilted her head in acknowledgement. “Thankyou,” she said. “Sleep well.”  
“Likewise,” he replied, a smirk hovering as he mimicked her answer from the previous night.  
She shook her head as she left the cellar, her own smile forming on her lips.  
*****  
The next few days passed in a blur, each day being similar to her first. She pointed out mistake after mistake on everything she cast her eye over, from financial accounts to carefully drawn maps. Thranduil’s respect for her grew, as did his attraction. The trousers she preferred to wear instead of dresses hugged her thighs and her rear, often drawing his gaze when she walked. The tops she favoured seemed to be similar in style, caressing full breasts which fought to gain his attention.  
From Tora’s viewpoint, he was nothing but a distraction to her work. A tall, stunningly handsome distraction, whose arrogance and confidence made her bones turn to liquid. His deep, velvet voice reached places she didn’t even know she had, and the knowledge irritated her no end. His long blond hair was enough to bring her to her knees, and every time she caught sight of him, waves of lust flooded through her body.  
By the end of the week, she had become firm friends with Legolas, with them sitting together during the council meetings, although she preferred to call them arguments. Each one ended in lots of screaming and shouting, fists being bashed onto the table, curses being uttered as Thranduil coolly opposed suggestion after suggestion.  
One of these suggestions was underway when she returned from a quick break, having stopped by the kitchen on the way back for some strawberries.  
She stood behind Thranduil, who was seated in his usual spot at the top of the table. The ensuing debate centred on moving a patrol line further along the border.  
Thranduil sat silent, trying to block out the rabble going on around him. Legolas caught his eye and subtly shook his head, knowing that not much could be said to bring the discussion to a swift close.  
Tora placed one hand on Thranduil’s left shoulder, leaning over his right and pointing with her other hand. “This area is completely unguarded and will be open to attack,” she said.  
Thranduil inhaled deeply, the soft swell of her breast pressed against his shoulder.  
She stood back, chewing on a strawberry.  
“And what do you know of this area?” one of the lords demanded, his temper evident. “You know nothing! You are not qualified to speak of such things.”  
Her eyebrows lifted. “If the King will allow..?” she said, and he turned his profile to her and nodded. “There are practically no guards patrolling this area already,” she continued with his permission. “I know this for a fact.”  
“And how do you come by this information? You are a mere secretary,” the lord snapped.  
“I managed to get halfway across the forest by this entry point,” she snapped back. “I know this area better than you.”  
Silence fell.  
Legolas smiled discreetly at her in approval.  
“Move the patrol,” she said with a shrug. “I guarantee there will be an orc attack within two or three moons, as they inhabit an area right there.” She leaned back over Thranduil’s shoulder and stabbed a finger at a point on the map. Her furious gaze landed on the lord who had called her out. “And I am not a _mere secretary _.”__  
Thranduil fidgeted slightly in his seat, the feel of her breast back against his shoulder sending his blood pressure through the roof. She continued to glare at the outspoken, bad-tempered councillor over the table, fire blazing in her blue eyes.  
“I believe a valid point has been made,” Thranduil said, breaking the tense silence. “Therefore without investigating this further, I will not be permitting the movement of the patrol. Instead, I shall be increasing it.”  
Tora stepped away from him, satisfied that she had made her point, and reclaimed her seat next to his son.  
“Excellent!” Legolas whispered from the side of his mouth.  
She flashed him a smirk of her own, before going back to writing what was being said.  
Within the hour, Thranduil had risen from his seat and was circling the table as he talked, his hands behind his back as he laid out plans he had for reinforcing one of the structures at one of the lookout points on the east border.  
He hesitated as he walked behind Tora and Legolas, pausing for a second mid-flow. She had been doodling in the corner of her paper, and had done a caricature of the lord who had tried to embarrass her. She had exaggerated vocal points, such as his eyes, nose, and chin. It was perfect. And hilarious.  
He snorted softly, turning it into a discreet cough before continuing, and resuming his pacing.  
Once he stopped talking for a moment as he walked, and he saw Legolas reach across for the lead she was using, adding something to her notes. As he changed direction and walked back around behind them, he saw his son had added horns. A swift kick to his chair made him sit bolt upright and behave.  
Tora kept her focus, holding the lead and waiting for him to resume speaking, her shoulders shaking in silent laughter.  
He would have to pull her in line.  
“You have the gift of drawing,” he observed after the meeting had drawn to a close, and the lords had exited the room.  
Legolas snorted to himself, pretending to gather his arrows in his quiver and reorganise them.  
“Adding horns makes you an accomplice,” his father directed at him with a glare.  
“Oh come on father, the man is a grouch,” he said. “He is lucky I cannot draw.”  
Tora grinned, scooping her documents together. “It is merely harmless fun, from a mere secretary,” she stated.  
Thranduil frowned. “Legolas, leave us,” he said. His son lifted one eyebrow to her, before making his exit. Thranduil turned his light blue eyes to hers. “Do not encourage my son to ridicule the members of the council,” he told her.  
She didn’t bat an eyelid. “I did not encourage him,” she replied. “He added the horns himself.”  
He scowled at her. “You know what I mean. However...” he trailed off, and she could see him fighting the amusement. “It was a good likeness.”  
“I know,” she said with a grin.  
“It isn’t professional,” he said, his features turning stern once more. “If anyone was to see that-“  
“They won’t,” she interrupted.”My notes are stored safely in case you lose the transcripts.”  
“Very well,” he said. “You have some time to yourself to do with as you wish. I am going to the training grounds. It has been a while since I picked up a bow and arrow.”  
She deftly tore one of the sheets she had written on, sliding it across the table towards him. “You might need this for target practice,” she quipped, as she stood up and headed towards the door.  
“Tora,” he called after her.  
She stopped and turned.  
“You are not a _mere secretary _.” He said. “Far from it.”__  
She smiled, and left the room.  
He fingered the caricature she had drawn, an amused smile on his face as he watched her go.  
Mithrandir had certainly known what he had been doing in sending her to him.  
*****  
Thranduil sat cross-legged on the couch in his quarters, twirling a goblet of wine absent-mindedly in his fingers. Dark thoughts tugged at the edges of his mind, thoughts of doubt and uncertainty.  
Tora was a breath of fresh air in his otherwise stuffy, boring, lonely world. But she unsettled him in a major way. She brought a sharp blast of sunlight into his life, shone a dazzling presence into the shadows that followed him around every single day of his existence. Razor-sharp wit, a dry sense of humour, and the most wicked laugh he had ever heard seemed to fill his days, stretching through the dull meetings and lifeless negotiations and making them more worthwhile and actually tolerable.  
She had the sexiest ass he could ever remember seeing, and breasts that made his palms burn with the thought of touching them. Her hair hung loose down her back like a jet-black waterfall, the swaying motion as she moved capturing his senses and taking his attention, no matter what he was supposed to be doing. Her long legs – and they were long as she was tall for a female – seemed to cry out to him as she walked past, the snug-fitting trousers clinging to her like a second skin.  
Yet she seemed to possess knowledge that others in his kingdom could only wish to know. She knew with a single glance at a document of figures if someone was pilfering from him, whether or not a map had been drawn to precision, and if a solitary word had been missed out on a treaty that would render the whole thing against him if not picked up on.  
She was hiding something.  
He knew it, but he didn’t know what it was.  
His strong instinct screamed at him that she had several skeletons in her closet, things she didn’t want the outside world to know of, secrets she probably tried to forget herself.  
Thranduil wasn’t one to let others lie to him, or hide things from him. He was determined to find out what it was she was keeping from everyone, and why she shrouded herself in a cloak of mystery, why she avoided direct questions or answered in such a way that the person doing the asking didn’t realise they had been led down an alternative path until days and weeks later.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

 

“You do not seem to spend much time on your own interests,” Thranduil observed, his sharp eyes watching his personal aide.  
Tora chewed her lip as she read through the document that was intended to replace the current trade agreement between the elves and the dwarves. “I do not have that many interests,” she replied, half listening to him. “The ones I do have, I find plenty of time for. This line here is wrong, Thranduil. Look. If you sign this, you are agreeing to 26% rather than your current 19%.”  
He frowned, setting his wine down and taking the document from her. “How could I have missed this?” he murmered, a frown coming down over his light blue eyes.  
Tora breathed deeply, aware of the state of her raging libido in recent times. “You did not read it with a critical eye,” she replied, lifting her own wine and taking a drink. “That is my job.”  
Blue eyes met hers over the top of the parchment, and she hastily took another sip to avert her gaze and attention. Damn him.  
“Maybe I am becoming far too lax of late,” he muttered, handing her the document. “Or maybe I am becoming too reliant on you picking up these things.”  
“It is what I am here for, until Gandalf returns,” she pointed out. “It is my duty to find these things.”  
His frown deepened. “How do you spot these things from a ten mile distance?” he asked. He reached for the bottle of wine, refilling his glass and offering the bottle to her.  
She shook her head in decline, as she still had half a goblet left. “I have a talent for it, I suppose,” she said. “I can tell immediately if something isn’t right. Or maybe my grumpy old wizard schooled me too well.”  
He continued to stare at her. “Are you involved with Mithrandir?” he questioned.  
She raised shocked eyes to his. “I cannot believe you asked that,” she gasped. “For what it’s worth, no. I am not. He is like a father figure to me. And besides...it’s none of your business.”  
He mocked a pout. “I did not mean to offend,” he defended himself. In truth, he wanted to know if her relationship with the wizard was off-limits or platonic. Secretly, he was happy it was platonic. That way he wouldn’t feel so guilty if he managed to bed her.  
By the look on her face however, bedding anyone was the last thing on her mind. “I will not accept personal intrusion like that,” she said, her cheeks pink with embarrassment.  
He leaned forwards, setting his empty goblet down as he drained the last of its contents. “May I remind you I can ask any questions I see fit,” he said, his voice dangerous in a soft way.  
Her eyebrows rose in challenge. “You are drunk,” she decided.  
“Deliriously so,” he agreed, a smirk hovering.  
She rolled her eyes. The strong wine was affecting her as well, without having to deal with a drunk King on top of everything else. He somehow seemed even more attractive to her than normal, and she struggled to keep her mind on what she was doing.  
“My business is exactly that – my business,” she pointed out, frowning at the document she was still perusing. “My relationships should have no bearing on the task at hand.”  
“Which is?” he asked.  
She groaned. “I think you should probably go to bed and sleep it off,” she advised, lowering the paperwork. “You won’t remember much in the morning anyway.”  
“I am not sure I want to,” he decided. “There is not much lately that deems to be worthwhile remembering.”  
She struggled to keep from grinning as his words had started to slur. “Then maybe you should partake in something that will be worthwhile remembering,” she said, and stood up from her seat opposite him. Damn him for looking so delicious through the heavy haze of wine.  
“What do you suggest?” he asked, smiling as he awaited her reply.   
“An early night,” she retorted.  
“It is halfway through the night,” he replied.  
“Then it is past time for you to be resting,” she said. “Come on. I shall put you to bed.”  
He laughed, a devilish humour in his eyes.  
“Sleep,” she instructed sharply, fighting off the urge to jump into bed beside him as he shrugged his robe from his shoulders and slid fully clothed under the blanket she held back.   
Tired eyes gazed up at her, and she felt a bolt burst through her as she read loneliness in the blue depths.  
“It will feel better come the morning,” she promised softly as she pulled the blanket up.  
“I seriously doubt it,” he muttered, his eyes closing. “Sleep well.”  
“Likewise,” she replied, and left his chambers.  
*****  
“I do not appreciate the dwarves trying to outsmart me,” Thranduil commented, stepping over bracken.  
“They have not succeeded,” Tora replied. She fell in step beside him, lifting low-hanging tree branches out of her way as they walked in the forest.  
The weather was warm and pleasant, with shards of sunlight peeping through the canopy overhead.  
“Nevertheless, they tried,” he said. “They are still as devious and untrustworthy as they always were. Nothing has changed in recent times.”  
She came to a sudden halt, her hand on his arm to stop him. He turned to her in confusion, but she held a finger to her lips and stayed silent.  
Leaves rustled slightly in the breeze. Normal forest sounds filtered past them.  
She stood as still as a statue, her sharp gaze absorbing everything around them, saying nothing.  
Thranduil frowned.  
As quick as a flash, she whipped her sword out and leapt forwards, at the same time as a giant spider dropped down in front of them. She moved at lightning speed, hacking and swiping as it attacked, and before he could register what was happening, the foul creature lay dead at her feet.  
He spun around as he heard movement behind him, and withdrew his own two swords as several other spiders made an appearance. Steel cut through the air with swift precision as they both defended themselves against the intrusion, both taking down an equal amount until the beasts were destroyed.  
He turned to her, breathing hard.  
Her chest was heaving as she panted with exertion, blood streaked across her cheek. She turned in a complete circle, scanning their surroundings.  
“The danger has gone,” she said, re-sheathing her sword.  
“How did you know?” he asked, perplexed as to how she had picked up on the spiders before he had.  
“They smell,” she replied. “It’s quite a faint smell, but distinctive. And the air seemed to change somehow.”  
He put his own blades away, stepping towards her. “You are injured,” he said.  
“It is just a scratch,” she replied, wiping the back of her hand across her face. “Nothing serious.”  
“They have never ventured this close before,” he said, placing his hand on her lower back and guiding her back through the forest. “This must be dealt with, and immediately. There will be more advancing.”  
“I didn’t know they would come this close myself,” she said as they walked. The pressure of his hand on her made her feel quite light-headed. “I thought they were much further out.”  
“This does not bode well,” he replied, taking her hand and helping her climb over some rocks. “I will send a patrol out to deal with them on our return.”  
She jumped from the rocks and landed on the grass beside him.  
“I owe you my gratitude,” he said softly. His pale blue eyes held hers. “You saved my life.”  
She smiled. “Now we’re even,” she said. “Think nothing of it.”  
“I am beginning to think you have the wrong position within the palace,” he commented, returning his hand to her back to guide her as they resumed walking.  
Her cheeks took on a light pink hue, thankfully hidden from him by her hair, as she played around in her head with his choice of words. Several very appealing positions presented themselves to her.  
“I am not a warrior by nature,” she told him, firmly steering her thoughts back to the present. “I fight through defence.”  
“You handled yourself well,” he said, glancing at her. “You have skill that can be pursued and developed.”  
She shook her head. “It isn’t me,” she told him. “I’m more comfortable outwith the battlefield.”  
They eventually cleared the tree line, and headed towards the palace grounds.  
“I still think it would be useful,” he commented. “The ability to protect oneself is often underestimated. If you lacked the skill needed, we would both be dead.”  
She kept quiet, choosing not to respond as he called to a group of guards, ordering a company be put together and set out to search the area. The guards hurried to carry out the King’s orders.  
He turned to her, hoards of unspoken words in the look he gave her. “Have someone tend to this,” he said, tracing the pad of his index finger along her cheek. “I must meet with Legolas.”  
She nodded, and stepped away from him.  
He watched her go, fighting conflicting emotions.  
*****  
“My father wishes you to practice your sword-fighting,” Legolas said, pinging a crumb of bread in her direction.  
She batted it away, scowling at him across the table. “I have told him, I do not wish to,” she said. “I do not belong in a war zone, it is not my choice.”  
He frowned. “He tells me you fought exceptionally well in the woods today,” he observed. “It seems there are no end to your talents.”  
She grinned, taking a drink of the sweet orange juice a servant had given her at her request. “I multi-task,” she replied. “What is the point in having one strength, and having weakness in every other aspect? That does not aid in survival.”  
He tilted his head in acknowledgement. “My father is demanding an explanation for the twenty two missing barrels of wine,” he said. “I do not wish to be whoever has been stealing from him.”  
“People take what they want when it comes to someone of unmeasured wealth,” she said. “I hate that. Just because someone has more than you, it doesn’t give you the right to take it from them. It’s not the natural order of things.”  
He nodded. “How long it has been going on is anyone’s guess,” he said. “It makes me wonder what else is being pilfered.”  
She shrugged. “Possibly anything and everything,” she replied. “If there is a space, dishonest people will find a way to fit through that space.”  
Legolas studied her. “I get the feeling your life has not been an easy journey,” he said, his words quiet.  
She lifted her eyes to his. “Nobody’s is,” was her reply.  
Their gazes both turned to the door as it opened, and Thranduil entered the hall. He paused before approaching them and lowering himself into a seat at the top of the table, with Legolas to his left and Tora to his right.  
“Any word back from the forest?” his son inquired.  
He nodded. “There was a nest just beyond where we had been,” he sighed. “This presents a problem, they have ventured far too close this time.”  
“Is the nest destroyed?” she asked.  
He nodded. “We lost two soldiers.”  
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, dropping her gaze and shaking her head. A silence hung over the table.  
“At least the problem has been dealt with,” Legolas said, his tone also lower. Nobody wanted to lose members of the company, and deaths were always difficult.  
“Yes. I can concentrate on increasing the patrol that Tora pointed out was weak,” Thranduil said as he reached for a plate and sliced some chicken. “I must say, the lords are grating on me these days.”  
Tora hid a smirk behind her glass. “How was target practice yesterday?” she quipped.  
He glanced at her, and she saw the faintest smile of amusement lurking in his eyes.  
“It went well,” he replied.  
“I bet it did,” she muttered.   
Legolas frowned in confusion, but decided he really didn’t want to know. He sensed a chemistry between his father and his personal aide, and was content to watch it develop. Both obviously had some sort of feelings for the other, but neither was willing to show their hand as yet. This could prove to be very interesting.  
“Legolas,” Thranduil said, breaking his line of thought. “I trust you will oversee the dispatch of reinforcements?”  
His son looked blankly at him.  
“For the patrol,” his father said dryly.  
“Oh. Yes, of course,” he replied. “When will they be assembled and ready to depart?”  
“Before nightfall,” Thranduil replied. “I want that patrol strengthened as soon as possible. Nothing gets past it.”  
Legolas nodded, rising from his seat. “If you’ll excuse me, I shall go and speak to the captain of the guard immediately,” he said.  
His father nodded, and he left the hall. Turning to Tora, Thranduil noticed she had her eyes closed, and was rubbing one side of her forhead.  
“Is everything alright?” he asked.  
Her eyes opened. “Yes. That wine last night was too strong for me,” she replied. “I have a bit of a headache today.”  
“You did not have that much wine,” he said.  
“I don’t usually partake at all,” she told him.  
“Then why did you last night?”  
She threw him a sideways look. “Because I needed it to tolerate you.”  
He surprised her by tipping his head back and laughing, giving her an obscene view of his throat. “I was not drunk,” he said.  
“Oh yes you were,” she retorted. “You asked me if I was sleeping with Gandalf.”  
“What?!” His face straightened instantly.  
“Not that drunk?” she teased.   
His cheeks turned pink. “I apologise,” he said. “That was inappropriate.”  
She shrugged. “No offence taken,” she said. “I didn’t pay much attention to your ramblings.”  
“Small mercies,” he muttered, hoping he hadn’t voiced his desire to ravish her body, to kiss and lick every inch of her, to have her screaming his name in the throes of orgasmic bliss. “I hope I did not say anything else along those lines.”  
“If you did, it must have been after I threw you into bed and left,” she replied. “But I think you were asleep before I even had the door closed.”  
“I did wonder why I was fully clothed when I awoke this morning,” he said.   
She laughed. “There is a fine line between a personal aide and a slave,” she told him. “Taking your clothes off is not part of my duties. That rests entirely with you.” She grinned at him, and he couldn’t resist returning it. “Besides...everybody has to let their hair down once in a while.”  
“Do you ever?” he asked, his eyes thoughtful as they held hers.  
“No.”  
“Why not?”  
“I have no need,” she said, getting the feeling that this was getting personal again. “I do not have the responsibilities or the stress that you do, so I have no need for escapism.”  
He considered her words. “Is life really that peaceful?” he asked after a few moments.  
“Life is what you make it,” she answered, pushing herself away from the table. “You take what is given to you and decide what to do with it, whether to allow it to rule your heart and your mind, or to cast it aside and learn from it.” She shrugged.  
He chose not to reply, instead taking a drink of water as he contemplated how much of an enigma she was.  
“If you will excuse me, I have some personal things to attend to,” she said, and left the hall at his consenting nod.  
His ability to seemingly read her thoughts was beginning to unnerve her.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

 

Thranduil’s roars of anger echoed through the hallways and passages, turning Tora’s blood to ice. What on earth had made him so mad?  
Hurrying towards the shouting and yelling, she skidded to a halt as he came storming out of the cellar, fury etched on his face.  
Cold blue eyes glared at her, and she waited.  
“I will not tolerate thieves,” he ranted. “Nor liars.”  
She folded her arms, pursing her mouth and lifting her eyebrows in silent question.  
He sighed as the wind left his sails. “The missing barrels of wine,” he explained, his tone softer.  
“Ah,” she said in understanding. “You know what happened, I presume?”  
He nodded, walking away from the cellar. She fell into step beside him.  
“Two of the guards were selling them on, a couple at a time,” he told her. “A third guard knew what they were doing, but apparently did not participate. But knowing and doing nothing makes him an accomplice.”  
She agreed.  
“He had the gall to deny it when I questioned him,” he said, stopping and turning to her. “I know when someone is telling untruths. Nobody can lie to me.”  
“I’m sure he is regretting it now,” she said, her gaze holding his.  
“He is,” he tutted, resuming walking. “All three of them are now banished from the realm.”  
“Hopefully others will learn from their mistake,” she said.  
He swept a glance in her direction. “I do not like things being kept from me,” he said. “My people know better than that. They do that, they suffer the consequences.”  
They rounded the corner in the passageway, to be met by one of the messengers of the kingdom.  
“My Lord, if you will permit, I have something of importance for you,” he said.  
Thranduil inhaled deeply. “Very well. Tora, you have some time to yourself. I will send for you later.”  
“Thankyou,” she acknowledged, and left the pair. She left the palace and went out to the gardens, intent on doing some sketching.  
*****  
Fire burned in Thranduil’s veins. Rage flooded through his heart and mind, clouding everything around him, turning his attention from matters of the realm.  
Tora had lied to him.  
And he had trusted her implicitly.  
He watched her from the balcony, sitting cross-legged on the grass drawing. Although too far away to see what she was drawing, he assumed it was the stag which lay sleeping at the base of a huge peach rosebush, blissfully unaware of her silent presence.  
Her hand moved rapidly over the paper she worked on, the only part of her body that moved.  
Below him, Tora was immersed in her artwork. Not having to raise her head, she lifted her eyes to the sleeping animal before her and back to the paper rapidly, putting what she saw on the parchment. The animal came to life under her hand, looking as realistic as the majestic beauty lying below the roses.  
The air around her was warm, a pleasant breeze gently lifting the ends of her hair.  
Something made her look behind her and upwards.  
Thranduil stood out on the balcony, watching her. As their gazes collided, he lifted two fingers and motioned her.  
She quietly got up, careful not to rouse the peaceful creature, and crossed the grass to the palace.  
Upon entering the hall where the King was, she set the paper down on the table and waited.  
He stood with his back to her, gazing out at the scenery, his hands clasped behind him.  
She waited.  
Very slowly, after a considerable length of time, he turned to her. His eyes were cold and hard, his expression unreadable.  
“You told me there are many strings to your bow,” he said, his voice low.  
Alarm bells rang in her head.  
“There are,” she replied, after a short silence. “You have seen this.”  
He slowly paced back and forth.  
Another warning signal.  
“As there are to mine,” he said.  
“I do not follow,” she said, frowning in confusion.  
He stopped pacing. “People think I am just a King, merely a figurehead of a kingdom. They do not realise I know everything that is going on in my realm. Everything.”  
“And so you should,” she said slowly.  
He stepped closer to her, and she had to tilt her head up to meet his eyes.  
“They think I am stupid,” he said, dangerously soft. “They think they can hold things back from me, lie to me.”  
“Then that is their mistake,” she replied, not batting an eyelid.  
He smirked. She was good at this game.  
“But I always find out,” he said. His tone and the velvet-spoken words were unnerving her in a huge way. And he was aware of it.  
He continued to stare at her, and she didn’t break his gaze.  
“Nothing can be hidden, no deceit can remain undiscovered,” he said. “But you know this, do you not, Tora? Or should I say _Meltora _?”__  
Her face turned white in horror.  
“Or maybe even _Princess _Meltora?” The word was hissed at her.__  
She stepped back from him. “I do not know-“  
“Enough!” he roared, his calm demeanour vanishing in a heartbeat. “You lied to me. You told me you had no secrets!” Fury blazed in his eyes.  
“I have none,” she said coldly, although inside, she was terrified.  
“Liar!” he screamed, leaning right down in front of her, so close she could almost see the flames of rage in his eyes. “Do you know what I do with those who lie to me? Who repeatedly tell me untruths? They are lucky if they leave here alive!”  
She remained rooted to the spot, fighting the urge to be sick.  
“You deceived me,” he spat. “You lied. You withheld your true identity. I have beheaded for less.”  
Her eyes narrowed. “Is that a threat, or a promise?” she challenged.  
“It is the truth,” he hissed. “Something you are not acquainted with, it seems!”  
Her heart hammered so violently she feared it would burst out of her chest.  
“You wormed your way into this realm, into this palace,” he snarled. “What was your plan? What were you up to? What evil had you planned?”  
“None!” she said angrily. “Gandalf sent me here. You know that!”  
“I know you had something in mind!” he shouted. “Whether the old wizard had a part to play in this, I do not know. But you are as dishonest as a snake!”  
She flinched as though he had struck her. “You know nothing!” she ground out. “You think you know everything, but you do not. You never will!”  
He grabbed her wrist, roughly dragging her against him. “You see this?” he said, drawing his thumb across the inside of her wrist. “You see the blue veins? You have royal blood in them!”  
She wrenched her arm from his grasp, hurting herself in the process. “I would rather have no blood than royal blood!” she screamed in anger. She spun around and stormed away from him, fury bubbling inside her.  
“Royal blood or not, you are still a liar!” he shouted after her. “No breeding can diminish the fact!”  
She burst into a run as the hall door slammed behind her, tears streaming down her face. The passageways passed in a blur as she put as much distance between herself and Thranduil as possible, as quickly as possible. Her chest heaved with the effort of breathing, an unbearable ache spreading through her.  
Collapsing against the wall outside her room, she bent at the waist, balancing her hands on her knees for support. Gasping for breath, she tried to clear her head, rid herself of the words he had yelled at her.  
She wiped her hands across her face as she straightened, kicking open the door of her room. Turning in circles, she ran her hands through her hair in a helpless gesture. No solace would be found here.  
She sank down onto her knees, fear and pain fighting for dominance in her mind and her heart.  
*****  
Thranduil saw nothing of Tora for the rest of the day.  
That suited him just fine. He didn’t want to be around her anyway, and none of his servants wanted to be around him either. They kept out of his way, appearing only when summoned and then clearing out again as fast as they could.  
His mood was dark, his words clipped, harsh, and judgemental. The guards kept their distance too.  
He gazed out across the darkening sky, but saw nothing. He was still angry at Tora for not being honest with him, about her past, her heritage, her status. What he couldn’t understand was why? What had she stood to gain by lying to him when he asked her about her past?  
Shaking his head as he turned from the window, he sighed deeply.  
He missed her presence.  
An unopened bottle of wine caught his eye, reminding him of her witty retorts when he’d consumed too much. He vaguely remembered her settling him into bed, pulling the blanket over him and promising him everything would be better.  
He remembered the look of fear in her eyes the first time he had seen her, after she’d fought for her life with the orc. He remembered her reluctance to talk, her fear of him, her eventual acceptance that he would not harm her.  
He closed his eyes, hearing her laugh as she joked with his son, poking fun at the lords of the council meeting. He saw in his mind’s eye the drawing she had done of the one who had belittled her, and the evil smirk she’d had when he had called her out on it.  
He frowned as an image of her came to him, going down on one knee to hold a hand out to one of the many cats who roamed the grounds, a look of sheer delight and joy as the animal had trotted over to her and allowed her to lift it. She had taken the young kitten in her arms, completely in love with the soft bundle of fur that purred in pleasure.  
A bolt of desire shot through him as he recalled his interrogation of the guard who had captured her, the look in her eyes when he’d said her breasts were perfect. He’d seen the arousal flare to life, and he was sure she’d seen the same in his eyes.  
Cursing to himself in Sindarin, he swept out of the room and went in search of her.  
He needed answers.  
*****  
Tora took a deep, shuddering breath, hot tears flooding down both cheeks. She’d spent her entire life creating who she was, creating everything around her, to have it all smashed to pieces in a heartbeat. Her past had finally caught up with her, and no amount of running was going to make it disappear this time.  
The horrors that had been lost in the mists of time reared back to life before her, memories so painful, she almost stopped breathing. Faces she had long forgotten, words she had banished from her mind a long time ago. Fear and pain that had long ago been shut to the depths of her mind, away from sight and memory.  
Thranduil had to go and bring it all back for her to remember, to face, never to escape the fear and horror that had haunted her for decades. She’d deliberately made a new identity for herself, with the intention of nobody ever bringing her past up to her, never being aware of it, and up until she’d entered Mirkwood, she had been successful.  
The hatred in his eyes had burned her soul. The venom in his voice had chilled her blood. The feelings she had for him lay crushed at her feet, and she knew she would never have a chance at love with him after this. If she had told him from the beginning she still wouldn’t, but a little hope had flared to life the more time she had spent around him.  
It was impossible to be around him and not fall in love with him. His very presence, his charisma, his physical being made it impossible. Females all over the realm were crazy about him, although he paid them no attention. He was either unaware of their adoration, or chose simply to ignore it and concentrated on ruling his kingdom instead.  
Frustrated and grieved beyond her understanding, she picked up a crystal vase and hurled it against the wall with a scream, and it exploded with a loud boom. The shards of broken glass mirrored her shattered heart as they crashed to the floor.  
She sank to her knees, crying as though her heart would break, and leaned both hands heavily on the floor. A cry ripped from her throat as she realised she had leaned on a sharp, pointed shard of crystal, and it was protruding from the soft flesh of her wrist. Blood poured from around the glass, increasing in flow as she watched it in stunned horror. The thick red liquid seemed to spurt from her wrist, and increased with force as she gingerly plucked the glass from the deep wound.  
Staggering to her feet, she pressed her other hand onto the wound, in an attempt to stop the bleeding. She started to panic as the effort failed, pools of red fluid dripping onto the stone floor beneath her feet. Dragging air into her lungs, she twisted round looking for something to pack against the deep cut.  
The door to her room crashed open.  
“What was that noise-Tora what have you done?!” Thranduil’s anguished cry met her ears.  
She turned to face him, fear in her eyes. The room was starting to move around her, the flow of blood warm and sticky as it bled down her arm.  
Thranduil crossed swiftly towards her, catching her in his arms as she fainted.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

Thranduil’s heart was pounding in his chest as he fought to stop the blood flowing from Tora. Pools of it collected on the floor, waves of it pouring down her limb as he held it above her to slow the flow. He lifted her quickly and deposited her on the bed.  
The wound was long and deep, and would need more attention that he alone could give it.  
He yelled at the top of his lungs, bringing one of the guards to the open doorway.  
“Go and fetch Bryden,” he ordered. “And speak to no-one else!”  
“Yes, my Lord,” the guard said, disappearing again at speed.  
Thranduil turned back to Tora, whose eyes were closed, her breathing slow and shallow.  
“Why, why did you do this?” he whispered, tears stinging his eyes. “Why did you do this to yourself?” His hands tightened around her wrist as he spoke, trying desperately to quench the flow of blood. The more she lost, the further away from him she was drifting. “You are not going to die Tora, I will not let you die,” he vowed.   
Her eyes fluttered open, but he could only see a vacant look in the dazed blue depths before they drifted closed again.  
Bryden, Thranduil’s most trusted and experienced healer, appeared within a few minutes, stopping in horror at the foot of the bed.  
The King was splattered with blood. It was splashed over his clothing, and even on the ends of his hair.   
Taking a deep breath, he stepped forwards. “Allow me, if you will, my Lord,” he said, his work head firmly on. Prying Tora’s arm from Thranduil’s grasp, he nodded as he inspected the damage. “Hold again, please,” he said.  
Thranduil resumed his grip on her, her skin sticky with blood.  
Bryden quickly rummaged around in his cloth bag, pulling out what he required.  
“Will she live?” Thranduil asked, fearful of the reply.  
The healer glanced at him. “Of course she will,” he said. “She has a purpose here. She will live to fulfil that purpose.”  
The King’s shocked eyes met his knowing ones, and he realised he wasn’t as capable of hiding his feelings as he had thought he was.  
Bryden deftly stitched the wound closed once he had cleaned as much blood away as he could, making sure the stitches were tight and would hold.   
Thranduil looked away as the needle flew through her torn flesh. Although not squeamish by nature, the sight of her in this state made him feel ill.   
The healer seemed to take forever in his task, thoroughly cleaning her wrist once the wound had been stitched closed. He applied a thick blue paste along the seam, and proceeded to wrap a bandage around her arm.  
Stepping back, he exhaled heavily. “She will pull through,” he assured Thranduil. “I have seen worse wounds. She will require rest though my Lord, she has lost a considerable amount of blood, and will feel weak and drained for some time.”  
“She will have as much rest as she needs,” he said quietly.   
Bryden nodded.  
“Mention this to no-one,” the King said.  
“Mention what?” the healer asked innocently, picking up his bag. “I bid you good night, my Lord.”  
Thranduil watched almost in a trance as the healer left the room, before giving himself a mental shake and calling the guard back who had fetched him.  
“My Lord,” he said, bowing respectfully.  
Sad blue eyes met his. “I have a task for you I would not normally ask,” he said.  
“Consider it done, my Lord,” the guard replied, stepping into the room and setting his weapons aside.   
Thranduil watched in silent amazement as he disappeared and reappeared a few moments later with a bucket of water and a scrubbing brush, and knelt on the floor.  
“Thankyou,” he murmered.  
“My pleasure, my Lord,” he replied, scrubbing the stone.   
Thranduil gently lifted Tora from the blood-soaked bed, cradling her in his arms.  
“I will change the bedding after I have cleaned the floor,” the guard said.  
He nodded, seemingly in a state of shock, and turned to the door, taking his precious load with him.  
*****  
Tora slowly opened her eyes, the sunlight dazzling her. She knew immediately she wasn’t in her own room, the surroundings completely different.  
The pain in her arm brought her to a sudden sense of awareness, and she recalled her last memories.  
Smashed crystal.  
Blood everywhere.  
Turning her head, her heart missed a beat.  
Thranduil sat on a chair at the side of the bed, her bandaged wrist resting in his hand. His head lay on the blankets, his eyes closed as he slept. Blood smears were smudged on his cheek, and the ends of his hair were covered in it. She could just make out a smudge of blood on his neck.  
She turned back to stare at the roof of the room, which she recognised as being his. Her mind was reasonably blank, with very little emotion.   
Once again, she was indebted to him, albeit grudgingly.  
Gently lifting her arm from his grasp, she carefully sat up, waves of dizziness washing over her. She took a deep breath and slid over to the edge of the bed, dropping her bare feet to the thick rug on the floor.  
She spotted one of his cloaks tossed carelessly over a chair, and lifted it, wrapping it around her as she took silent, tentative steps out onto the balcony.  
Sinking down onto the bench, she inhaled the aroma of the flowers that surrounded her.  
She didn’t know how much time passed. An hour, maybe longer. She didn’t move as someone appeared in her peripheral vision, moving silently to sit on the bench beside her.  
Nobody spoke for a long time.  
“My parents wanted a son,” she said after an eternity.  
Thranduil turned and gazed at her, but said nothing.  
“They didn’t have one. They had me,” she said. “They didn’t want a female.”  
The seconds ticked past as she stopped.  
“I was maybe two years old when I realised I should never have been born,” she continued in her own time. “Both my parents were vicious, unyielding. My mother would go out of her way to hurt me, to injure me. She would throw boiling water at me. Pull my hair so hard, she would rip it out. She stood on my hands and broke every finger.”  
Thranduil’s nostrils flared, but he remained quiet.  
“My father whipped me regularly...I still have the scars that never healed properly,” she said. Her voice had trailed off to a little above a whisper. “He would scream at me that I was supposed to have been a boy to take over the kingdom, to lead his armies, and I was no use as a girl.”  
Pain shot through his heart at the unspoken agony in her words.  
“After a while they stopped feeding me. If it wasn’t for the maids, I would have starved to death,” she continued. “They would sneak bits of food to me. They knew what was going on, but nobody was brave enough to speak up or try to stop it.”  
She took a deep breath.   
Thranduil’s silence was unsettling, but she wanted to tell him everything. He had saved her life, again, so she felt she owed him that.  
“My father took me out over the mountains one winter,” she said. “It was cold, snowing. Thick ice everywhere. He tied my hands and feet and threw me off the horse, then rode off.”  
He inhaled sharply. “How old were you?” His question was softly spoken.  
“Six,” she replied.  
His blue eyes met hers, before he looked away again.  
“Gandalf was travelling with a group of dwarves, and found me. I was half dead. He picked me up and took me along with them, and I stayed at his side ever since.”  
A young eagle soared overhead, catching her attention.  
“I heard many years later that an orc army invaded my homeland,” she said, her eyes on the bird as it flew out over the trees. “They slaughtered everybody, burned the city to the ground. Everything and everyone was gone. There was no connection to my past, to who I was. I could start over again...be whoever I wanted to be.”  
He gently lifted her wrist, his thumb caressing the bandage wrapped around it. “And I brought everything back that you had tried so hard to forget,” he said quietly. Heartbroken eyes lifted and met hers. “I made you do this.”  
She didn’t reply, just took a deep breath and pulled her arm away.  
“This is my fault,” he said.  
She glanced at him. “Do not blame yourself. Maybe the past would’ve caught up with me at a later time in life,” she reasoned. “I do not expect your forgiveness for my lies, but maybe you can understand why I lied.”  
He reached over and took her hand in his, in a firm hold. “I forgive you for lying,” he whispered. “I had no idea about what happened when you were a child.”  
“Nobody is supposed to know,” she said. “Gandalf knows – obviously. But it’s something we never talk about. We both know it’s there, but it’s silent in the background. We have no need to talk about it.”  
“Those words I said to you,” he said softly. “They were the worst words I could have chosen, and I am so sorry for that.”  
She closed her eyes as she looked away from him, his nearness too much for her to cope with on top of everything else she was working through. His hand felt soft, warm, and gentle as he held hers.  
Tears burned her eyes, and she blinked hard to get rid of them.  
“Please do not be ashamed of who you are,” he whispered. “You did not ask to be born, you did not ask for what you went through. You have grown into an amazing woman who has strengths other women lack. Take comfort from the way you have turned out, rather than despair over your heritage.”  
“That’s easier said than done,” she said after a long pause. “It took years and years to get as far as I did.”  
He lowered his head. “You have no idea how much I regret what I said, how I handled this,” he admitted.  
She heard the genuine hurt and regret in his voice.  
“You said from the beginning you couldn’t tolerate liars,” she said. “I suppose I thought if I stayed quiet, I would leave when Gandalf returns from God-knows-where and nobody would be any the wiser.”  
“I still should not have turned on you like that,” he told her. “You have proven yourself to be invaluable since you came here, and that’s the way I repaid you. I just expected...I do not know...maybe some sinister reason behind your secrecy.”  
She looked at him again. “There was.”  
“I did not expect that,” he said.   
She took a deep breath, letting it out on a heavy sigh. “Do not carry guilt,” she said decidedly. “This is my cross to bear, no-one else’s. Certainly not yours.”  
“You could have bled to death because of what I said,” he replied. “That makes it my cross to bear also.”  
She shook her head. “You reacted the way that is expected of you,” she told him. “You reacted the same way you would if you discovered any other employee had withheld something like that from you.”  
He shook his head, studying the hand he still held in his. “You are still very pale,” he said, glancing up to her face. “You should get more rest. I will bring you something to eat.”  
“I’m not hungry,” she said, shaking her head in refusal.  
He stood, pulling her to her feet and lifting her into his arms. “You will do as your King orders,” he said, stepping into the room and depositing her back on the bed. “Stay there. I shall return shortly.”  
“There is something else that is more important,” she pointed out as he strode towards the door.  
He turned, frowning at her in question.  
“Change,” she said.  
He glanced down at himself, still covered in blood splatters where her blood had splashed onto him as he’d struggled to stop her from bleeding. With a slow accepting nod, he left the room.  
*****  
By the time Thranduil returned with a tray of food, Tora had disappeared. Panic flooded through him as he entered his chambers and found her gone. He turned and headed down the passageway towards her room, hoping against hope that she would be there.   
Elbowing the door open, relief washed over him in waves as he spotted her sitting by the rocky ledge.  
She turned her head and met his eyes, reading the emotion in the pale blue depths. A sad half-smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Don’t worry, I’m still here,” she told him, turning back to look out over the realm. “I didn’t think it was right to stay in your room.”  
He kicked the door closed and crossed the room, setting the tray on the ledge beside her and sitting on the other side of it. He lifted a cup of hot tea and handed it to her.  
“This has healing herbs,” he told her. “It will help you heal faster.”  
She took the cup from him. “I suppose I owe you an apology,” she said.  
He frowned. “For what?”  
“For doing what I did,” she replied.  
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I do not want to hear you speak like that,” he said, a stern tone to his words. “I pushed you to despair Tora, I made you so angry and I pushed you into doing it.”  
She huffed. “No you didn’t. I allowed myself to fall into desperation. Nobody else.” She sipped her tea, wrinkling her nose at the sour taste. “Holy shit, this is awful.”  
His eyebrows rose at her choice of words.  
“What? Spend enough time with the dwarves and hobbits, you pick up their sayings,” she said.   
He said nothing, just smirked to himself, as he handed her a sandwich, waiting for her to eat it.  
She grudgingly took a bite, admitting to herself that she was indeed hungry, just hadn’t realised it.  
Trust Thranduil to be right again.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

 

Thranduil had left Tora sleeping. She had lay on top of her bed and he had reclined on the couch, and the two of them had talked about anything and everything that came to mind as darkness fell across the kingdom.  
She had eventually nodded off, and he had covered her with a blanket before leaving her to rest.  
He sat in the darkness of his own chambers, going over what she had told him previously.  
No child should suffer the way she had. No child deserved to be born to hateful parents who had no right creating life only to destroy it.  
Her inner strength astounded him. She had seemed so capable of everything she had put her mind to, and he’d had no idea of the dark demons she had been struggling with.  
A blood-curdling scream snapped him from his thoughts.  
_Tora _.__  
Leaping to his feet, he hurried from his room and tore along the hallway towards her room, throwing the door open with a crash.  
She sat on top of the bed on her knees, hysterical, blankets tossed everywhere.  
Her hands were in her hair, her entire body shaking violently as tears poured down her face, sobs tearing through her.  
He slammed the door closed and strode over to her, lifting her across his legs as he sat down on the bed, and pulling her tight against his chest.  
“Sshhh, it was a nightmare,” he whispered, rocking her from side to side. “It wasn’t real.”  
She continued to sob against him, the force of her cries tearing him apart. Her fists clutched the front of his tunic, desperately holding on to something safe in a world of torment and anguish.  
“Sshhh, everything is alright my darling,” he said softly into her hair. “You’re perfectly safe. No-one will harm you.” His arms tightened around her and he rested his cheek on the top of her head.  
Closing his eyes, he willed elf magic into her, his strength fusing itself into her body. Gently moving one arm at a time, he wrapped his cloak around her, almost like a protective shield against the horrors that were in her mind. The soft velvet seemed to warm her, and eventually she settled a little in his arms.  
An occasional shudder rippled through her, and she tightened her hold on the fabric of his clothing, her hands trembling in fear.  
He whispered soft words in Sindarin, willing her to relax and fall asleep again. She didn’t understand the words he used, not having full knowledge of the language, but his voice was soothing and helped her to relax.  
Before long, she had drifted off to sleep again.  
He waited until he knew she was in a deep sleep before carefully moving, leaning back against the pillows and taking her with him, still cocooned in his cloak. He pulled her to his side so her head was resting on his chest, and closed his eyes.  
*****  
He awoke sometime through the night, just as the dawn was beginning to creep along the horizon. The warm weight of Tora snuggled against him was the first thing he became aware of.  
The second was the painfully hard erection he had.  
She had woken before her nightmare and changed into a silky nightdress, which stopped halfway down her thighs.  
The nightdress hugged her body, accentuating curves that begged to be caressed. Her leg was thrown over one of his, her shapely thigh exposed by the short length of the garment. Her full breasts were pressed against his side as his arm was under her shoulders.  
He groaned inwardly.  
This was not something she should wake up to.  
She shifted slightly in her sleep, her arm tightening across his stomach.  
_Holy shit _, as she would say. He smiled, despite his predicament. Although he wanted more than anything to remain where he was, he battled with himself and carefully slid out from under her. Pulling the blankets up around her, he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek and padded silently from the room, cursing the agony of trying to walk with a hard-on that could chop down trees.__  
Shortly after, he returned to her room, after having a bath and an argument with himself about why he was not going to try to seduce her. She was vulnerable and needed him as a friend; anything more would be taking advantage of her in a fragile state.  
She was still asleep. He gazed at her for a while, once more struck by how much she affected him. Along with the burning lust to bury himself deep inside her and have her scream in passion, he found himself wanting to protect her, to soothe away her troubles and her demons. He wanted to dry her tears, comfort her, and promise her everything would be alright.  
This was something new.  
Centuries had passed since Legolas’s mother had been taken from him, and he had never felt anything close to what he was feeling towards Tora. Sure, he had eyed various elves who vied for his attention, flirted with some of them, but they hadn’t been enough to ignite the fire in him that she had. Nobody had come even close.  
He sighed, shaking his head in resignation, knowing he was well and truly stuck. After what he’d said to her before she’d smashed the vase in a fit of frustration, he knew he had no chance with her. He’d ruined any opportunity he might have had.  
“Something vexes you,” she murmered sleepily, rolling over.  
He smiled. “Nothing important,” he replied, sitting on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”  
She met his gaze. “Alright, I think,” she said. She pushed herself into a sitting position, pulling the blanket up over her chest. “I’m sorry about last night.”  
He frowned. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said. “Although you did almost give me a heart attack. I thought somebody was being murdered.”  
She looked down at the blankets, picking something invisible from it. “It was probably because I was talking about everything yesterday,” she said. “It must have brought everything back to me to throw at me in my dreams. I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”  
“You did not,” he told her. “I sleep very little.”  
“Thankyou for being there for me,” she said softly.  
“You are welcome,” he replied, his heart beating faster. “Do you wish for some breakfast? You need to get your strength back.”  
She thought about it. “Yes, I think I would like that,” she said. “But I should probably bathe first.”  
He nodded, sweeping aside an image of her emerging naked and wet from the bath. “I shall send Aria in to assist you.”  
She shook her head. “Please don’t,” she said. “I kind of cherish my privacy. I feel uncomfortable having someone around when I am bathing.”  
He grinned. “As you wish,” he replied. “But what if you require help?”  
“I won’t,” she assured him.  
He eyed her thoughtfully. “One condition,” he said.  
“What?”  
He pointed to the bedroom door. “I shall wait outside. If you are not out in twenty minutes, I shall assume something has happened and you need help.”  
Her jaw dropped. “I will _not _be calling you if I am stuck in the bath,” she said, her cheeks turning pink.__  
He tipped his head back and roared with laughter. “I would fetch Aria,” he said, grinning at her discomfort.  
Or would he?  
*****  
A comfortable silence hung between them as Thranduil signed various documents that needed his attention, ones that Tora had already perused. She sat to his left at the table, reading further paperwork before handing it to him. Nobody felt the need for mindless conversation, both of them comfortable in one another’s company.  
Eventually he pushed the paperwork away from him, stretching and yawning.  
“I think a walk outside in the fresh air is required,” he decided, lowering his arms.  
She nodded, rubbing her tired eyes as she put her own documents on the table. “I agree,” she said. “The words are all beginning to blur and meld together.”  
“Maybe you have returned to your duties too soon,” he observed, placing a warm hand under her arm to help her stand.  
Four days had passed since the altercation and angry words between them.  
She shook her head. “No, I am fine,” she replied. “I just need a short break, to put my attention somewhere else for a while.”  
He opened the door to the study, ushering her through it in front of him. Unsure of the protocol for a King to usher a servant before him, she hesitated.  
“Tora,” he said softly. “When we are alone I am not your King. I am your friend. Remember that.”  
She smiled, following his bidding to exit the room. He followed close behind her, falling in step beside her as they walked along the dimly lit hallway.  
The bright sunlight dazzled her as they stepped out into the secluded gardens, and she shielded her eyes for a second or two as she adjusted to it.  
“I have seldom enjoyed a spell of weather like this,” Thranduil commented as they walked slowly across the grass. “These warm, sunny spells do not usually last longer than a week at most.”  
“Then enjoy it while it lasts,” she replied. “The weather can change so quickly, and is unpredictable.”  
“Why do you seldom wear anything on your feet?” he asked suddenly, the movement of her bare feet catching his attention.  
She laughed. “It is a matter of comfort,” she replied. “I have always been more comfortable in bare feet, particularly outside on the grass.”  
He frowned, shaking his head and making her grin in amusement at his bewilderment.  
She stopped walking, and he halted at her side. Her attention had been caught by a beautiful butterfly flitting around just a few feet in front of them, lilac in colour with darker purple around the edges of its wings. She stared at it, mesmerised.  
Holding her hand out, she waited patiently until the delicate creature landed softly on her palm, tissue-thin wings fluttering softly in the warm breeze.  
Thranduil’s eyes were glued to her face, which shone with delight as she gazed at the creature in her hand. Her eyes seemed to sparkle, her full lips curving into a tender smile, a light pink hue dusting her cheeks.  
Very quietly, she spoke. “Give me your hand,” she said.  
He blinked in surprise, then complied with her request.  
She took it in hers, holding the hand with the butterfly next to it, her flesh burning his. The butterfly stepped from hers onto his, exploring new scents and territory as it settled. It seemed content to stay on his hand, the wings flapping occasionally.  
After a few minutes, it took flight and disappeared.  
Tora lifted sparkling eyes to his. “How beautiful was that?”  
“You have a connection with nature,” he murmered.  
“I love animals, of all sorts, shapes, and sizes,” she replied as they resumed their leisurely pace. “An animal doesn’t care who or what you are, as long as you show it kindness. How a person treats an animal tells me everything I need to know about them.”  
He pursed his mouth as he turned her words over in his mind. “Some animals are bred solely for war purposes,” he said.  
She frowned. “You mean wargs and such like.”  
“Amongst others.”  
“They are different. They are bred with evil and darkness infused into their bones,” she said. “They are not born innocent and pure. They are born with an axe to grind.”  
“True,” he agreed.  
“What is the most precious thing life has taught you?” he asked.  
She went quiet, and he wondered if he had broached a touchy subject.  
“Not to expect anything from anyone,” she replied after thinking her answer over. “That way, you cannot be disappointed when people betray you or let you down.”  
“Sad, but again, true,” he said.  
They stopped at an intricately carved wooden bench, and he gestured for her to sit. Lowering himself down beside her, he crossed one knee over the other and gazed out across the multitude of colour that bloomed before them.  
“What’s the most precious thing life has taught you?” she asked, turning his question back on him.  
Like her, he pondered his reply.  
“Many things,” he said after a while. “Probably the fact that nothing lasts forever.”  
“That’s a loaded answer if ever I heard one,” she said. “Some things do last forever.”  
“Such as?” Pale blue eyes turned to her.  
She felt like a deer caught in a trap. Shrugging, she searched her own mind for a reasonable response. “Love,” she said eventually.  
He snorted, turning away from her again.  
“Look at the love between you and Legolas,” she reminded him. “Nothing could break the bond between father and son.”  
“We fight and disagree,” he replied.  
She laughed. “People do fight and argue,” she told him. “It is an intrinsic nature!”  
“We clash on a regular basis,” he said.  
“But the bond is still there,” she replied. “And that will last forever. Love can.”  
“What about the bond between a male and a female?” he asked. “Do you believe it lasts forever?”  
“I believe it’s possible, if it is the right kind of love,” she said.  
“Have you ever been in love?”  
She laughed. “I have thought I was in the past,” she admitted. No way in hell was she going to admit that yes, she had been in love. That she was in love. Right now. With him.  
“But that did not last,” he said, more a statement than a question.  
“No,” she said. “Maybe a blessing in disguise, although it did not seem so at the time.”  
His heart pounded hard in his ears. He knew he had fallen deeply in love with the complicated elf who had wandered into his life, but didn’t have the confidence to voice his feelings for risk of rejection. Her friendship was too precious, and he wasn’t going to risk losing it.  
A lifetime of friendship with her would have to suffice, given the option between that or nothing.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

 

Tora walked beside Thranduil through the hallway, passing several groups of guards on their way. Legolas stood with one of the groups, in deep conversation.  
She continued to talk to Thranduil, innocently walloping the bottom of the quiver that rested against Legolas’s back as she passed, the force of her upward strike making his arrows bounce out and onto the floor.  
“Tora!” he roared at her retreating back, stooping to collect his weapons.  
The sniggers from the assembled guards drifted after her, making her smile as she talked.  
Thranduil cast a glance over his shoulder, frowning. “In one of those moods today, are we?” he questioned.  
“What moods?”  
He raised one eyebrow, giving her a sideways look. “I have enough to keep that impish little mind of your occupied for a while,” he muttered. His son continued to shout light-hearted threats down the corridor.  
“I’m sure you have,” she answered dryly, ignoring the yells that echoed after her. “What delights do you have in store for me today?”  
He flashed a mischievous grin at her, opening the door to his study. “Something I know you have been desperate to do for a long time,” he told her.  
_Him _?__  
Coughing and clearing her mind of filthy thoughts, she stepped into the study, turning in a circle taking in the surroundings. “And?”  
He folded his arms. “You wanted to re-arrange the books,” he said.  
Her face lit up in a huge grin of delight. “Seriously?” she squealed. “Yesss!”  
He returned her grin, shaking his head at her enthusiasm for what he would class as a boring task. “Yes. You may re-organise them.”  
She threw herself, as usual, into the job at hand, destroying the shelves and sorting the books into categories. Thranduil kept himself busy doing some work of his own, stopping after a while to help her do the higher shelves that were above her reach.  
“No no,” she huffed in exasperation. “Not that one. This one goes up there.”  
“Does it make any difference?”  
“Yes it bloody does,” she retorted, swiping the offending book from him and replacing it with the correct one. “This is why women are organisers.”  
He snorted with laughter, slotting the book into place easily. “Pedantic,” he observed.  
“Organised,” she corrected. “That’s much better. At least now they are categorised, and it’ll be easier to find whatever you are looking for.”  
He stared down at her, amused at how she jumped into everything with both feet, regardless of the task.  
“What?” she demanded, feeling like she was under scrutiny.  
He smiled. “You are truly an enigma,” he told her, turning from the bookshelf.  
“In what way?” She picked up a few books from the pile on his desk, putting them where they belonged in between other tomes.  
“You approach everything in life with enthusiasm,” he told her. “This is something I seldom see...people do things because they have to. You seem to accept things as a challenge.”  
She nodded. “I suppose I do. Situations are what you make of them. You can either embrace and enjoy them, make the most of them, or rebel and make life difficult.” She stopped, her eyes meeting his. “Nobody wants to be a victim.”  
Her words slashed hard across his heart.  
“Tora, you are not a victim,” he said softly. “You never were, and never will be.”  
She lifted her eyebrows briefly in acknowledgement, but said nothing. Picking another book from the desk, she tutted in disgust. “This one belongs up there...how did I miss it?”  
His jaw dropped as she leapt up onto the wooden shelves, climbing towards the top of the structure. He shot out of his chair and grabbed her by the waist, lifting her back down to the floor.  
“What on _earth _are you doing?” he exclaimed. “Give me that! I can reach up there from here.”__  
“Bugger off,” she snorted. “I can do it.”  
“Tora,” he said in warning.  
She started to laugh, swiping the book from his reach as he moved to take it from her. “I am not a weak little female,” she told him.  
“I did not say you were,” he said, advancing as she stepped backwards. “Give me the book.”  
“No.”  
“Yes!”  
“Not on your life,” she snorted, diving to the other side of the desk.  
Amusement filled his eyes. “Give me the book...now,” he said.  
She shook her head. “Anything you can do, I can do also,” she answered.  
His shoulders shook with his silent laughter. “Give it to me.”  
_Oh I would love to _, she thought. “Uh-uh,” she said instead.__  
He moved around the table, and she moved, circling the furniture.  
“Tora!” he snapped.  
She hooted with laughter and climbed back up the shelves, knowing he had further to get to her being on the other side of the desk.  
A scream of laughter left her as she felt herself being dragged down, and she hung on to the shelves, squealing and wriggling.  
“Am I interrupting something?” an amused voice asked.  
Both of them turned to see Legolas in the doorway, trying hard to hide his grin. Tora lost her grasp on the shelf and crashed into Thranduil’s arms, both of them falling backwards a few steps.  
“No, we were just-hey! Give me that!” she yelled, as he grabbed the book from her, reaching up and sliding it into place on the top shelf.  
He smirked at her, a look of arrogance and self-satisfaction on his face.  
“Shit-head,” she muttered under her breath.  
Legolas roared with laughter. “I only came to tell you that lunch is ready,” he said, wiping tears from his eyes. “But it looks like you’re too busy to stop and eat.”  
“Like hell,” she replied, pushing past him. “I’m starving.”  
“In that case, allow me to accompany a Lady to eat,” Legolas smiled, holding his arm out to her.  
She returned his smile, linking her arm through his, and they headed away from the study. Legolas glanced over his shoulder at his father, his eyebrows coming down in a questioning frown at the look in his parent’s eyes.  
Thranduil looked away, before exiting the study and following the pair for lunch.  
*****  
“Do you care to tell me what that was all about?” Legolas asked, lifting his wine and taking a drink.  
“What was what all about?” Thranduil questioned, leaning his elbows on the table and studying his son.  
Legolas lifted one eyebrow. “Between you and Tora,” he said. She had excused herself to attend to something elsewhere.  
“What about her?”  
“You’re avoiding a response,” his son observed. “That look you gave me as we came down here.”  
The King glared at him. “I did not give any look,” he said.  
“I can read you better than anyone else in the realm,” Legolas told him. “I know when something is troubling you. I have seen the look you have many times.”  
Thranduil didn’t answer.  
“If you do not do something, others will,” his son said softly. “There are many who desire her.”  
Thranduil’s eyes met his. “What do you mean?”  
He scoffed. “You can deny it all you want. I know what I see. I also know that there is a line of soldiers, guards, and whatnot just waiting for a signal from Tora, and the second she shows any interest, they’ll be around her like bees around a honeypot.” He stood, watching his father for a reaction.  
“She is free to court whoever she chooses,” he said finally.  
Legolas shook his head. “So be it,” he sighed. “Do not say I didn’t warn you.” He turned and left the hall, leaving Thranduil to reflect on his words.  
*****  
“Ah...the lady I seek,” a deep velvet voice said, turning Tora’s bones to liquid.  
She glanced over her shoulder.  
Thranduil appeared at her side, tilting his head to study the drawing she was working on. “Impressive,” he murmered. She had drawn the stables, with the horses looking out over the half doors. Each animal seemed to come to life on the paper.  
“Thankyou,” she smiled.  
He took a deep breath, bringing himself back to the present and the matter at hand. “I have received word that Bard from Lake Town and a few of his associates will be arriving for a few days. They will be here by dawn tomorrow, and I wish to prepare a feast for them.”  
She nodded. “What do you require me to do?” she asked.  
He held her gaze a moment before replying. “I want you to oversee the arrangements,” he said eventually. “The kitchen staff are aware of what is expected of them, I would like you to make sure everything runs according to plan.”  
“I can do that,” she said. “Anything else?”  
“Yes,” he said. “I wish for you to attend. I will arrange for something for you to wear.”  
Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Me?”  
He smiled. “Yes, you.”  
She groaned. “Oh no. You are _not _going to make me wear a dress.”__  
His smile widened. “Oh yes I am,” he replied.  
She shook her head, muttering something undecipherable.  
He turned and walked away. “I am sure you will enjoy yourself,” he said over his shoulder.  
She turned and watched him walk away, her heart thudding in her chest at his majestic beauty as he walked, his long blond hair swishing as he moved with long, graceful strides. Heaving a sigh, her gaze lifted and she caught sight of Legolas leaning on the upper wall of the palace, a knowing smile on his face. Blushing, she turned back to her drawing.  
*****  
“For God’s sake!” she roared in frustration. “This is burned! It’ll have to be thrown away!”  
Cooks hurried past her, rushing to correct the serious mistake of allowing the pastries to overcook.  
She slammed the tray of burnt offerings onto the worktop, howling in temper. “I should’ve done this my fucking self,” she snarled to herself.  
“Such foul words, from such a lady,” a voice said behind her.  
She groaned inwardly, turning to face Thranduil. “I am definitely in the wrong job here,” she stated, her hands on her hips. “Look at this. Complete inadequacy at its best.”  
He fought to keep his amused smile to himself, but she saw it anyway. “There is still time to do more.”  
She snorted, grabbing one of the cooks as he bustled past. “Prepare me more pastry,” she ordered him. “I will do the next batch myself.”  
The cook turned questioning eyes to his King.  
He nodded. “Do as asked,” he said.  
The cook blushed and scurried off. Thranduil turned his gaze back to her.  
Flour dusted her cheeks and her hair, making her look cute and sexy at the same time.  
“Where is your head cook?” she demanded, still irate.  
“His wife is birthing their sixth child,” he replied.  
“He needs another hobby,” she muttered. “This place is in chaos without him.”  
Thranduil shrugged. “He will return once the child is here safely,” he said, not fazed in the slightest. “Anyway...I did not take you on in the palace as a cook.”  
She glared at him. “Either this gets done right, or the feast will be a disaster,” she told him. “I’ve instructed some of the guards to re-arrange the seating in the banquet hall, and the maids are looking after the decorations. I’m keeping an eye on them, plus trying to bring some sort of order down here.”  
He pursed his mouth, impressed as usual at her commitment. “I had a look in the hall on the way down here,” he said. “Impressive.”  
With that, he smirked and left the kitchens, his hands behind his back.  
Not long afterwards, she instructed the kitchen assistants to start taking the platters of food up to the banquet hall. By this point, all of them were scared to answer back or rile her, as her irritation was abundant.  
She leaned against the wall of the hall, taking a deep breath as she surveyed the work carried out. Maybe...just maybe...the evening would be a success.  
“Wow...you’ve worked hard,” Legolas commented, appearing with Aria at his side.  
Tora smiled, a tired look in her eyes. “I think it’s come together at last,” she said.  
“The King has ordered you to leave everything,” Aria said. “You have to bathe and prepare.”  
She groaned. “This is the part I could do without,” she grumbled.  
Legolas laughed. “You will have a great time,” he promised. “I will accompany you once you are ready, if that is alright?”  
“Of course,” she replied. “And thankyou.”  
“It will be my pleasure,” he replied with a small bow, making her laugh. “My father has asked that I look after you tonight.”  
She rolled her eyes.  
“He does not wish for you to be uncomfortable, or to feel ill-at-ease,” he told her.  
“I’m sure I’ll survive. Somehow,” she said dryly.  
Aria hopped excitedly from one foot to the other. “Your dress it absolutely stunning,” she told her. “I have never seen anything like it.”  
“My father chose it, I presume?” Legolas asked the maid, who nodded.  
“Yes, of course! And he has chosen well. It will look wonderful on you, m’lady Tora,” she said, turning her sparkling gaze away from the prince.  
Legolas smiled. “Go, Tora. I shall escort you when you are ready.”  
She nodded, allowing Aria to grab her hand and yank her from the hall and down the corridor. Once out of earshot, the maid let out an excited screech.  
“Oh Tora, your dress is amazing!” she squeaked.  
“I’m sure it is,” she replied, as they jogged towards her chambers. “What colour is it?”  
“Oh, I am not saying anything else, you must see for yourself!” Aria laughed. “I cannot wait.”  
“Neither can I,” she muttered.  
“All the ladies will be dressed in their very best,” Aria continued as they rounded the corner. “I think the King wants you to outshine them.”  
Tora’s stomach rolled, wondering what the hell he had sent for her to wear.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

 

Tora’s nerves were shot to pieces by the time the expected knock sounded on her door. Aria was as excited as a child, bouncing around and fussing over her, making sure her hair and makeup were done to perfection. She practically ran to open the door, revealing Legolas.  
His gaze swept down to Tora’s feet and back up again, a look of wonder on his face. “Wow,” he said. “Just wow.”  
“Is that a good wow, or a bad one?” she asked.  
“It’s a good one!” he assured her. “Good grief...you do scrub up well Tora, that’s all I can say.”  
She blushed a little, fidgeting with the skirts of her dress.  
Thranduil had certainly pulled all the stops out.  
The dress he had sent was deep turquoise, a striking effect with her long, jet black hair. It was fairly low cut at the front, nipped in at her waist, and flared out over her hips to fall gracefully at her feet. The material was soft and floaty, swirling sensually around her legs as she moved. Hundreds of tiny silver gems had been painstakingly stitched from the top down, starting with a few dotted here and there, and increasing in vast numbers towards the bottom hem. Long sleeves glittered with the silver gemstones too.  
Aria had applied makeup, accentuating her eyes. Dark black eyeliner swept under both eyes, flicking out to a tail on both outer corners. Her hair had been swept up at the top into an intricate braid, leaving the lower sections free to trail down her back.  
“I’m still not sure this is really me,” she said, walking towards her escort.  
He took her hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. “You look amazing, Tora. Stop worrying,” he said. “My father will be delighted.”  
She ‘hmm’ed under her breath, taking the arm he offered and accompanying him out of the room. Her nerves tied themselves up in knots as they approached the banquet hall, and if she was honest with herself, it was solely because of Thranduil.  
Two guards opened the massive doors and Legolas nodded to them as they stepped inside. The hall was heaving, with people in all directions.  
“Relax,” he whispered.  
“I am relaxed,” she said with a smile.  
He lifted one eyebrow. “As relaxed as a wolf ready to pounce,” he replied. He guided her through the crowds, introducing her to various people she didn’t already know.  
Her gaze landed on Thranduil, as he stood on the other side of the hall with his back to her, in deep conversation with someone.  
He turned, almost as if he was aware of her presence, his eyes catching hers.  
His mouth opened, and he stared at her.  
She was _beautiful _.__  
The dress he had chosen hugged and caressed every curve, drawing attention to her ample breasts, her narrow waist, and curved hips. The soft fabric clung to her thighs as she walked, making his throat go dry.  
Blinking and snapping himself back to the present, he realised that almost every other male in the hall had noticed her too. Maybe the dress hadn’t been such a wise move after all.  
He moved towards her, and her pulse went through the roof. She swallowed nervously.  
“What an exquisite beauty,” he murmered as he neared her, lifting her hand and kissing it. “I would like to introduce you to a good friend of mine, Bard. He is the leader of Lake Town.”  
The man in question stepped forwards, bowing his head in respect. “It is a fine pleasure, m’lady,” he greeted her. “I have heard many amazing things about you.”  
“As I have you,” she returned with a genuinely warm smile. “It’s a pleasure to finally put a face to the name.”  
“Tora is my personal aide,” Thranduil explained, turning to his companion. “She has worked wonders in the time she has been here.”  
“Brains as well as beauty,” Bard complemented her.  
“Most definitely,” the King murmered, his glance meeting hers once more.  
She felt the heat between her legs at the look in his pale blue eyes.  
“I think some wine is in order,” Legolas decided, watching his father. “If you will excuse us?”  
Thranduil tipped his head in consent, and his son guided her away towards one of the servants who was distributing goblets of wine.  
Bard whistled softly under his breath, dragging his eyes from Tora’s retreating figure.  
Thranduil looked at him.  
He laughed heartily. “I understand,” he said. “Message received and understood.”  
The King frowned.  
Bard scoffed, taking a drink of his own wine. “I know when something – or some _one _is off-limits,” he grinned. “And I can see why that someone is off-limits.”__  
Thranduil declined to respond, which only fuelled Bard’s knowing grin all the more.  
The evening passed quickly, with copious amounts of alcohol flowing between both elves and men. The men became very drunk very rapidly, not being able to hold their drink as well as the elves could.  
Tora spent most of her time alongside Legolas, and she was grateful for his companionship. He put no pressure on her, and she felt the friendship bond strengthen between them. At various times he had no choice but to release her, as many times she was asked to dance.  
Eventually she wound her way back to him, dropping onto a seat beside him and helping herself to one of the pastries laid out on the table.  
Thranduil’s gaze met hers once more.  
“I would suggest two dances with that particular Lord is more than enough,” Legolas whispered to her. “He is beginning to get a little too drunk for my liking, and he tends to become very touchy-feely when he is intoxicated.”  
She nodded. “I know. I already slapped his hand away twice during the last dance.”  
Thranduil scowled, looking away.  
Legolas noticed, and smiled to himself.  
“How about I dance with you?” he suggested, turning to her. “As your escort and protector for the evening, I am expected to have at least one dance with you.” Amusement filled his sparkling eyes. “And I promise I will attempt nothing of an inappropriate manner.”  
She laughed. “And they say chivalry is dead,” she said, rising from her seat again. “Alright then, show me how a true gentleman should dance with a lady.”  
“My pleasure,” he smiled, throwing a glance at his father as he followed her onto the floor.  
Tora relaxed as his arms went around her waist, lifting hers and placing them over his shoulders. He stood slightly taller than her, so they fit comfortably together. The music was slow and relaxing, and she enjoyed swaying from side to side with him.  
At the table, Bard was watching Thranduil with interest. “I would say your son seems quite taken with your aide,” he remarked.  
“Nonsense,” Thranduil replied. “They are close friends, nothing more.”  
The other man raised his eyebrows. “I see the protective mode appear whenever she dances with someone else,” he said.  
“That is because they are very close, and I asked him to look out for her this evening,” Thranduil replied. “She is safe with my son.”  
The music continued, a hypnotic drum beat flooding through Tora’s senses.  
“You know my father will ask you to dance,” Legolas told her as he gazed down at her.  
“He won’t,” she said. “There have been females asking him to dance all evening, and he has declined every one of them.”  
“He will,” he said in a sing-song voice.  
“He won’t.”  
“Then why is he heading straight for us?” he grinned.  
Tora gasped and panicked, much to her companion’s amusement.  
“May I have the pleasure?” his deep velvet voice said from behind her.  
“Of course,” Legolas replied, turning her gracefully into his father’s arms.  
She took a deep breath to settle her nerves as he disappeared into the crowds, lifting her arms to cross them over Thranduil’s shoulders as his arms slid around her waist. It was slightly more difficult, as he was much taller than his son.  
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked, moving gracefully with her in time to the music.  
She smiled. “Actually, I am,” she replied. “I’m surprised myself.”  
He smirked. “I knew you would. You have worked exceptional wonders for tonight,” he said. “I am pleased with what you achieved.”  
“I am too, although at times I had serious doubts as to whether I could do it all in time,” she said.  
“You doubt your own ability too much,” he murmered, pulling her tighter against him as the music changed to an even slower rhythm.  
She leaned her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes as his warm hands slowly swept up and down her back. Every sense was on full alert. She could smell his intoxicating scent, she could feel the solid muscle beneath her hands. She could hear his heart thumping, she could see the pulse in the side of his neck if she lifted her head.  
His long hair touched her cheek like soft kisses as they moved.  
Her hair caressed the backs of his hands as he moved them up and down the curve of her back.  
She absent-mindedly rubbed her crossed thumbs on the soft skin of his neck, not really paying attention to what she was doing as she melted in his arms. His heart rate sped up, and she felt him stiffen slightly. Lifting her head from his shoulder, she gazed up at him in question.  
Time seemed to stop.  
His light blue eyes held hers for what seemed like an eternity, before dropping to her mouth.  
Her lips parted of their own accord, as her own heart pounded within her. She felt his hands tighten on her back, felt a distinct hardness against her. Her breasts seemed to swell in arousal, her nipples hardening against the solid chest she was pressed against.  
An insistent ache throbbed between her legs, desperate for attention.  
He slowly lowered his head.  
Her eyes drifted closed as his mouth hovered over hers, just a hair’s breadth between them.  
“My Lord, a fire has broken out down in the kitchens!” The voice pierced the bubble that had enclosed the two of them, as they quickly pulled away from each other.  
Thranduil clenched his teeth in anger, turning a vicious glare to the offending servant who had interrupted. “Then put it out!” he snarled.  
“It...it is out of control,” the servant stammered, his face flushing dark red. “There is nothing we can do...it is spreading!”  
On the other side of the hall, Legolas sat with Bard, and shook his head in disappointment. “Of all the timing in the world,” he muttered.  
Bard grunted in agreement. “A beautiful moment spoiled,” he commented.  
“Deal with the problem!” Thranduil barked at the terrified servant. Turning back to Tora, he found her gone. Turning in circles, he searched for her in bewilderment.  
_Damn _. He’d scared her off.__  
“Where the hell did she go?” he demanded as his son appeared at his side. Horrified blue eyes met Legolas’s.  
“She ran out of the hall,” he replied. “I have a feeling she may have gone down to the kitchens.”  
Thranduil cursed and swept out of the hall, hurrying along the passages and down the stone stairs towards the kitchens.  
Chaos greeted him. Thick black smoke wafted out into the corridor, the smell burning his throat. He held his arm over his nose and mouth as he battled through the dense smoke streaming in all directions.  
“Tora!” he shouted over the noise of the fire.  
Flames leapt around him, igniting everything they touched.  
Legolas and Bard flew in behind him, splitting up and disappearing into the dense smoke.  
He searched blindly for her, not even certain she was down there. “We have to put this fire out!” he roared.  
“Working on it!” Legolas yelled back. A bucket of water sloshed over some of the flames, extinguishing them with a hiss. Bard followed suit, the water battling against the ferocious fire.  
Thranduil spotted Tora over by the main oven, flames blasting from the equipment. “Tora!” he screamed. “Get away from there!”  
She turned from pouring water over the oven as he shouted, at the same time as something within it exploded, forcing the flames out with a vengeance. The bottom of her dress caught fire, the fabric bursting into flames.  
She screamed and dropped the bucket of water in her hands as the flames rushed up to engulf her.  
Thranduil’s heart stopped and he grabbed the bucket from Bard, throwing it over the dress. Only half of the flames went out, and she twisted and turned in a blind panic. Ripping his cloak from his shoulders, he dived towards her and grabbed her, smothering her in the folds of the fabric and dragging her down onto the floor, quickly rolling her. His head lowered as he gasped to breathe, toxic fumes filling the air.  
“Father, take her out of here,” Legolas yelled in his ear as he passed him. “We have this under control.”  
Thranduil lifted her into his arms, cradling her tightly against his chest as she coughed and retched in the thick smoke. He cast a look over his shoulder as his son and Bard continued to fight the fire, finally gaining control over the devastation. Hurrying away from the kitchen, he bounded back up the steps, pounding along the passages towards the healing rooms.  
The doors crashed open as he kicked them, sweeping inside.  
“Tora needs attention, now!” he barked, giving Bryden who was on duty the fright of his life. He leapt to attention as he carried her over to one of the couches, gently laying her down.  
“What happened, my Lord?” Bryden asked, quickly helping his King to remove the singed cloak from Tora.  
She groaned in pain at their swift movements.  
“Fire in the kitchens,” he replied. “Tora, try and be still, angel,” he said to her. “We need to check your burns.”  
Bryden shook his head, muttering to himself, as he ripped the burnt skirts of her dress. Luckily she had only superficial burns on her legs. “I have cream that will take care of this,” he assured the King. He turned to fetch it, moving so that Thranduil could move closer to her.  
“Why did you go down there?” he asked, anguish in his voice. He took one of her hands and held it between both his.  
Heavy eyes opened and slowly focused on his. “The fire started in the main oven,” she said, her voice hoarse.  
He nodded, swallowing back tears. “You should not have gone down there,” he said. “You could have been killed.”  
“I spent too much bloody time slaving away down there today to see the place go up in flames,” she said, closing her eyes again in exhaustion.  
“You stupid, crazy woman,” he said, but there was not a single trace of anger in his tone.  
“Something like that,” she replied, and her breathing slowed into a steady rhythm.  
“Best to let her rest, my Lord,” Bryden said, dabbing thick blobs of cream onto her legs. “This will soothe the burns, and within a couple of hours, there will be no trace.”  
Thranduil nodded, reluctant to tear his eyes away from her.  
“Go and rest, my Lord. There is nothing more you can do here,” the healer advised. “If she is aware of your presence, she will not get the rest she requires to heal.”  
Tearful blue eyes lifted, meeting Bryden’s. After a moment or two, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, before standing back up and leaving the room.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit content

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

Thranduil encountered Legolas and Bard returning from the kitchens.  
“How is Tora?” his son immediately asked.  
He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “She is with Bryden,” he replied. Exhaustion washed over him in torrential waves. “She has superficial burns on her legs, but he is taking care of her.”  
“Good,” Bard said. “She was extremely lucky.”  
“She should not have been down there to begin with,” he said, anger bursting through his fatigue.  
“She was doing what she does best – serving you,” Legolas pointed out gently. “Do not be angry with her for having your best interests at heart.”  
“The fire has been put out,” Bard said. “It looks like the point of origin was the main oven furnace.”  
Thranduil nodded. “She said that’s where it had started.”  
“The kitchen is salvageable,” Legolas stated. “Although it will need a great deal of work done to make it useable again.”  
“The kitchen is not important,” his father said on a sigh.”Thankyou – both of you. It was not your place to tend to this matter.”  
Legolas scoffed, and Bard frowned.  
“We are friends, are we not?” he demanded.  
“You are here as my guest,” the reply came. “But yes, we are friends.”  
“Then as a friend, I tell you this – shut up. Go and get some rest then check on your lovely lady,” Bard shot back.  
Thranduil’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Very few people would dare to speak to him like that.  
“He’s right,” Legolas put in. “I do not know about anyone else, but I am going to bathe and get cleaned up.”  
“That sounds like a good idea,” Bard said. “I will go and let everyone know the fire is out and that the feast is over.”  
Both of them turned and headed off in different directions, leaving Thranduil with a heavy weight on his shoulders.  
*****  
A few hours passed.  
Thranduil had bathed and changed into a comfortable silk robe over a pair of grey stretch trousers, the stress of the evening finally reaching a level where he could deal with it.  
He stepped out onto the balcony, the cool breeze soothing him as it lifted the ends of his long hair. Darkness had settled over the kingdom, offering a comfort of some kind. He breathed deeply, his mind on one person.  
A slight movement caught his eye.  
He turned, his sharp sight spotting Tora out on the balcony of her room. She didn’t appear to have seen him, or be aware of his presence. She leaned on the stone ledge, quiet and still.  
He wondered what was going through her mind.  
Was she thinking of how close they had come to sharing a kiss? Of how aroused he had been when they had been dancing? Of the effect she had on him?  
He watched as she lowered her head and rested it on her arms, worried if she was alright. She lifted back up again after a few seconds, a sigh of defeat floating through the darkness towards him.  
He silently went back inside, crossing the floor and leaving the room without taking the time to think through what he was doing, or the consequences. Moving along the passageway, he came to a stop outside her door.  
Clenching his teeth, he knocked on the wood.  
A few seconds passed before the door swung open.  
His eyes met hers.  
Nobody spoke.  
She moved to one side, permitting him entry. He stepped past her, wondering what he was going to say as she closed the door.  
“I um...wanted to check you were alright,” he said finally, frowning as he looked at the floor.  
“I’m fine,” she said. “Aria helped me to get bathed and changed, and the burns have disappeared. Elf-magic, or something.” She shrugged.  
He nodded, finally lifting his eyes to hers.  
Her heart hammered hard, her pulse visible on the side of her neck. The air seemed too dense to breathe.  
They both stepped towards each other at the same time, their mouths meeting in a passionate kiss. Tora moaned and whimpered as his soft mouth caressed hers, her hands holding on to his upper arms for support. Her lips parted and his tongue swept inside instantly, branding her as his. Warm hands crossed over her back, pulling her body flush to his. Stars burst behind her closed eyes as his mouth made love to hers, reducing her to a trembling wreck.  
She had dreamt of his kiss for so long, of how he would feel in her arms. Her hands rose higher and tangled in his hair as she twisted her head, trying to deepen the kiss. A low rumble echoed from deep within his chest as her tongue clashed with his, dancing an erotic dance that fuelled the furnace that had blazed to life between them. Both hands slid up her back to her shoulders and back down again, halting on the curves of her backside and hauling her tightly against the growing swell of his groin.  
A whimper of need escaped as she felt him hard and heavy against her, the ache between her legs becoming uncomfortable. The whimper became a cry as he pushed one thigh between hers, and she tore her mouth from his as she panted for breath. His hands gripped her hips, rocking her against the solid muscle as he kissed his way down her neck. Her head arched back as his sharp teeth sunk into her flesh, his warm tongue licking as he pulled back.  
Her hands roamed restlessly over his shoulders, desperate to feel his flesh rather than the robe he wore. Her breathing was laboured, coming in rapid pants.  
“Tora...Tora,” he whispered. “I need you...”  
His erotic whisper sent her senses into overdrive, and the floor seemed to tilt beneath her feet. Her hands trailed down the front of his shoulders to his chest, grasping the edges of his robe and pushing them apart.  
She moaned as her hands came into contact with warm, hard flesh, the thumping beat of his heart hammering below her fingertips. Flattening her palms, her hands wandered over the exposed flesh, caressing the planes of muscle and the warm soft skin.  
His mouth trailed soft, wet kisses back up her neck, pausing to suck on the flesh below her ear. She turned her head and chased his mouth, desperate for his kiss. She groaned against him as his mouth crashed against hers, desperation in his touch.  
The thigh between her legs continued to rock against her, sending shock waves up through her body at the intimate friction. Pushing the robe completely off his shoulders, her hands dropped to the belt tied at his waist and she fumbled to open the knot. Pushing it aside, the robe fell to the floor behind him, leaving his upper body bare for her to explore.  
He dragged his mouth from hers, his eyes blazing with lust and desire as she gazed into them, his hands holding her hips in a firm grip.  
“You do not know what you do to me,” he ground out hoarsely, panting for air.  
“I doubt it’s anything near to what you’ve been doing to me,” she whispered back. Her pupils were dilated in the dim candlelight, her chest heaving in unsteady breaths. “This is not enough. I need more.”  
His nostrils flared as he fought to control his breathing. “Tell me what you need.”  
Her blood turned to liquid fire. “I need you, on top of me, inside me, fucking me,” she whispered, and gasped as his mouth crashed onto hers again, kissing her with bruising force. His hands pulled her hair, tipping her head back to look at him. His eyes were glazed with passion, his lips swollen from their kisses.  
“If you have any doubts about this, then now is the time to air them,” he gasped. “Otherwise, there is no stopping.”  
“No doubts, no stopping,” she panted. Every erogenous zone in her body had blasted to life, and was begging for his touch.  
He stared deep into her eyes, before lifting her in one swift movement and wrapping her legs around his waist. Her eyes closed and she dropped her head back in pleasure at the contact, the solid weight of his erection pushing against her through the fabric of his trousers. He took advantage of her position and sucked hard on her neck, drawing a dark bruise to the surface. Walking towards the bed, he slid her down his body until her feet touched the floor, and he pulled back a little to gaze at her.  
Deep blue eyes held his, and he had never felt so sure about something in his life. This felt so right, so natural.  
Pulling his lips in, he undid the sash holding her robe closed, parting the soft fabric from her shoulders. His eyes dropped, heat flooding through his bones.  
She was _perfect _.__  
He lifted hands that trembled slightly, gently caressing the undersides of her breasts, before lifting his thumbs to brush over her nipples. She bucked towards him, arching into his touch, a soft whimper escaping. He dragged his thumbs back and forth, her breathing changing as he did so.  
A small smirk lifted one corner of his lips. “Lie down for me,” he whispered, placing a gentle kiss next to her ear.  
She sat on the edge of the bed, shifting herself backwards as he knelt before her. His erection was huge against the confines of his trousers, and twitched, restless to be free. She reached for him, but he caught her wrist in a gentle grip and moved it aside.  
“Your pleasure first,” he said softly, lowering his head to kiss her again. Her mouth immediately opened, demanding entry of his tongue, and he didn’t refuse or disappoint her. His weight rolled slightly to her right side, but a hand on her shoulder kept her on her back. A few wet kisses later, he lifted his head fractionally so he could look at her, his hand trailing down her body. “I wonder how aroused you are?” he murmered, a wicked gleam in his eyes.  
Her thighs parted of their own accord, and his hand dipped in between, coaxing a whimper from her.  
“Mmm, so wet, already,” he whispered, slowly circling her sensitive area. Her hips lifted, and he smiled. “Patience, my angel...patience.”  
Her mouth opened and she gasped as one finger slid into her, her wet heat accepting him. “Oh my God, more,” she pleaded, her arms locking behind his neck. “I need more!”  
“And you shall have it,” he assured her, his voice still erotically soft and low. He placed soft little kisses around her mouth as his fingers increased to two, sliding rhythmically in and out of her, occasionally pulling right out to rub around her clitoris before sliding back in again. Her body trembled, her muscles tensing and flexing. Again and again he slid his fingers out to tease her, then sliding back inside her. She cried out, lifting her hips up off the bed in an attempt to get him to penetrate her deeper.  
He smiled into their kiss, loving the feeling of her against him. Her body responded so well to him, and seemed so ready to come for him. His left arm was settled around her waist, holding her close as he ravaged her with his mouth, while his right hand moved faster into her.  
“Come for me baby,” he whispered, pulling back and gazing deep into her eyes. He’d spent weeks dreaming of this moment, and didn’t want to miss a single heartbeat of it. “Come on...come for me...” The heel of his hand rubbed against her clitoris as he plunged his fingers faster into her, and she whimpered helplessly. He grinned, not breaking rhythm. Her thighs trembled, her body tensed and went rigid, and she exploded with a howl torn from the depths of her soul.  
He growled as his mouth covered hers, his tongue plunging inside as she cried out against him. Her orgasm rocked on and on, and he continued to move within her until her frantic thrashing began to subside. Easing off on the force of his kiss, his mouth became softer against hers, little kisses which allowed her to breathe in between as her body settled.  
Easing himself back, a smug smile appeared as he gazed down at her, panting and helpless in his arms. “I have waited so long to do that to you,” he whispered.  
Her teeth sunk into her lower lip as she held his gaze, before she pulled him back down to her and pressed her mouth against his. Thinking she would never tire of his kisses, she relaxed as the weight of his upper body settled against her.  
“I need you,” she whispered, closing her eyes in pleasure as his mouth wandered down her neck.  
“You have never been intimate with an elf my love, have you?” he murmered against her flesh in between kisses, licks, and bites.  
“No,” she gasped.  
He grinned against her skin. “We spend _hours _satisfying our lovers before we take our own pleasure,” he whispered, his lips wandering further. He rolled his weight onto her as his mouth reached her breast. She arched into him as his tongue flicked across the hard peak, and he smiled in satisfaction.__  
She had more she could give.  
Much more.  
Drawing his tongue over her nipple a few times, he closed his mouth over it and sucked, enticing a lusty cry from her as her hands fisted in his long hair.  
“Oh my God, Thranduil...” she panted. The world seemed to fade out around her as he moved to her other nipple, giving it the same attention, teasing it with his tongue before sucking hard on it. Her legs thrashed under him, her hips lifting to press tightly against the hard bulge he purposefully kept from her.  
He cupped her breasts, stimulating both nipples with his thumbs, sending her into a frenzy. Placing kisses in the valley between the mounds of flesh, he let his mouth continue to wander, and settled his weight lower. She gasped as he parted her thighs, blowing softly over her exposed core. A howl left her throat as his tongue swept the length of her before circling her clit and rubbing it. He flicked his tongue back down again, pushing it into her and tasting her sweet fluid, before drawing back up to her throbbing clit. She writhed on the bed, panting and crying out as the tension built again between her legs. Convinced she could take no more, she begged him to complete her.  
“In good time, my angel,” he whispered, taking her higher and higher with each sweeping motion of his tongue against her. “All in good time, I promise. This is more important.”  
Tears of frustration escaped down her cheeks, the need to feel him buried deep inside her too much for her to cope with. He held her open with his thumbs as he concentrated on her clit, swiping his tongue from side to side and giving it his undivided attention. Her hips rose up and she howled, her body trembling from head to toe.  
“No more baby, no more,” she cried. “I can’t take any more!”  
“Yes you can, my love,” he murmered, showing her no mercy. “You can take so much more...”  
One arm lifted and clamped over her abdomen, forcing her back against the bed as she twisted and turned, frantic for him. Her hands clenched in his hair, both holding him against her and pushing him away. Her head rolled from one side to the other, waves of dizziness crashing through her as his sensual assault continued.  
He grinned against her, her fluid becoming sweeter and sweeter. She was close.  
He increased the pressure of his tongue against her, increased the tempo of his teasing licks. She screamed his name as she climaxed, her body going into convulsions as she thrashed violently.  
Releasing his hold on her, he lifted himself over her, settling in between her open thighs as his mouth met hers in a hungry kiss. Fumbling with the ties on his trousers, he wriggled out of them and kicked them off. Her arms flew up around his neck, her legs flipping over his back. A long, low groan sounded from the back of his throat as he pushed into her, her insides contracting rapidly around the length of him.  
Dragging his mouth from hers, he panted hard as he fought to control himself, resisting the urge to plunge in as deep as he could go. His chest heaved with exertion, his heart feeling like it would explode from beating too fast.  
Her hips lifted against his, drawing him further in until he was buried to the hilt in her molten wet heat.  
“Oh my God...you feel so good...” he gasped, his arms trembling with the effort of holding his weight. “So wet, so tight...so mine...”  
He dropped his head onto her shoulder as he started to thrust into her, slow, decisive movements that took all his concentration and effort. Fire burned through his veins as she sunk her teeth into his neck, sucking hard as her hips moved in rhythm with his. Electricity blasted across his lower back, gathering in between his legs as he pushed into her. Her hands flitted across his shoulders and down his arms, before wandering back up and roaming across his back. The strong muscles flexed and tensed, trembling under her touch. Her mouth kissed down his neck and around the front, and he groaned as she found his weak spot – the centre of his throat. Smiling to herself, she licked the area, feeling the ripple that flowed through his body. She licked again, and his hips thrust harder and deeper. Opening her mouth wider, she closed her lips on his skin and sucked, hard. He bucked violently, panting into her ear.  
“You are going to kill me, my angel,” he gasped, the speed of his thrusting intensifying.  
“No I am not,” she whispered, breaking her contact. “I am going to make you come, and come hard.” Her mouth returned to his throat, and again his body spasmed.  
Her legs tightened around his back, pulling him as deep as she could. He squeezed his eyes closed and gritted his teeth, pleasure mounting as she moved under him. Panting hard, he threw patience and precision aside as passion and lust took over, his thrusts hard, deep, and rapid.  
She whimpered in his arms, her movements in perfect synchronisation with his. Sweat rolled in between his shoulder blades, his skin hot to her touch.  
“Tora,” he gasped in a broken whisper. “Tora...I’m coming...I’m coming...”  
He pumped into her hard, a long roar wrenching itself from him as he spurted deep inside her. His body shuddered and jerked, the aftershocks flowing through him like tidal waves in a storm. His arms finally gave way and he collapsed onto her, breathless and dizzy as the room spun around him.  
Time ticked past as he lay on top of her, working hard to regulate both his heart and his erratic breathing. Turning his head to one side, he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, lifting himself in shock as he tasted her tears.  
“Tora, why are you crying, my love? Did I hurt you?” he gasped.  
“No,” she smiled, lifting her hand to touch his cheek. “That was beautiful.” Her words were velvet whispers. “They are tears of happiness.”  
He closed his eyes in relief, resting his forehead against hers, before twisting slightly to touch his mouth to hers. She responded, their kiss more tender and loving than previously. Rolling onto his side, he took her with him, still buried deep inside her. He lifted her thigh up around his waist, strengthening the physical connection, and tucked her hair behind her ear.  
His blue eyes gazed into hers for a long time, and he eventually kissed her softly once more. Pulling back, he smiled as her eyes opened and she gazed back at him, before fluttering closed in exhaustion.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

 

Tora rolled over and sighed in her sleep. Her arm tightened around the warm, bare chest under her cheek, and she opened her eyes, adjusting to the faint early morning light.  
Smooth skin was right next to her, heat radiating from it.  
She slowly lifted her head.  
Light blue eyes met hers, nervous questions lingering in the depths.  
Feeling no need to speak, she lifted herself up level with Thranduil, smiling before lowering her mouth to his. His lips parted, his tongue slowly and hesitantly seeking entrance to hers. She accepted, a soft moan of delight in her throat as her tongue met his. His hands lifted, settling with uncertainty on her back.  
Pulling back a little, she frowned slightly. “What’s wrong?” she asked. Her eyes changed as she pulled back from him a little. “You regret last night.”  
“No, I do not,” he said hastily. “I was unsure if you would regret it.”  
She blinked in surprise. “Never,” she whispered. Emotion reared up from nowhere, catching her off-guard. She swallowed and looked away, determined not to cry.  
Gentle fingers turned her to face him. “Tora...I love you,” he said softly.  
She took a shuddering breath, a few tears escaping despite her efforts to keep them at bay. “I love you too,” she whispered. “I have for a long time.”  
He moved his hands to frame her face, wiping her tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “Do not cry, my angel,” he pleaded. “It hurts to see you cry.”  
She sniffed, laughing a little in embarrassment. “I’ve been keeping this to myself for such a long time,” she admitted, lifting teary eyes to meet his. “And it was so hard sometimes.”  
He nodded, understanding. “I know. I have been in the same place,” he told her. “Even Legolas told me if I did not do something, someone would steal you away before I had the chance to make you mine.”  
“You told him?” she asked in surprise.  
“Good God, no. He could see it,” he laughed. “Even Bard commented last night. He knew also.”  
She rested her head on his shoulder, pressing a butterfly kiss to the side of his neck. “Oh no,” she said, jerking back up again.  
“What?”  
She glanced at him, before dropping her eyes to his throat. “Uhm...you have a problem,” she said slowly.  
“As in?” he asked with a frown of confusion.  
“As in a big-ass love bite right _here _,” she replied, touching her fingertip to his throat. “That’s going to be hard to hide...it’s quite high.”__  
He shrugged arrogantly, making the ache in between her legs flare to life again. “I do not care.”  
“You don’t mind if everyone sees it?” she asked in surprise. “What are you going to tell them?”  
He smirked, running one hand through her hair. “No-one would dare ask me,” he replied. “But I would tell them the truth. I would tell them that you bit me during a wonderful night of making love to each other, that you orgasmed twice at my touch, that the planets collided and exploded when I fucked you...”  
She gasped, arousal spearing through her at his words. Heat flared her cheeks, her eyes dazed. His hand tightened in her hair and dragged her down for a kiss, his hungry mouth claiming hers. With a deft movement, he rolled over so she was pinned beneath him, parting her legs with his thigh and settling in between them. He pushed into her, grunting in pleasure at the warm fluid which greeted his intrusion. Without breaking the kiss, his hips started to move in short, rapid thrusts that pounded against a sensitive area she didn’t even know she had.  
Her breasts swelled against his chest, his movements creating delicious friction. He lifted her left thigh, increasing his speed but maintaining depth. She released a long, drawn-out moan, her body so close to climax in such a short time. He felt the tension in her, his kiss turning more demanding. Releasing her leg, he gripped both her hands, his fingers tightening through hers and pinning them to the bed on either side of her. Soft, frantic whimpers sounded, and it took her a second or two to realise she was making the desperate sounds.  
A cry of frustration replaced her whimpering as he swiftly moved away from her, finally breaking the kiss. He pulled out of her, rising to his knees.  
“Turn over,” he ordered softly.  
She bit her lower lip as she complied, spreading her thighs as she backed onto him, his hand on her hip guiding her as his other hand lined his erection to enter her. He thrust forwards, burying himself deep within her, leaning over her back as his arm wrapped around her waist to hold her steady.  
“I want to feel you come on me,” he whispered, his hips pumping rapidly into her.  
She couldn’t answer, every breath requiring all her energy as he pushed hard with each thrust. She lowered her weight onto her elbows, supported by the pile of pillows. His weight behind her changed, and one hand slid up around her throat. The other pulled her hair to tilt her head back, and his mouth crushed hers in savage passion.  
“Do you want to come?” he panted as he put a miniscule gap between them.  
“Yes,” she gasped.  
“Do you want me to fuck you until you scream?” His erotic whisper almost had her exploding on the spot.  
“Yes, yes!” she cried.  
He pulled harder on her hair, devouring her mouth again. Her body quivered and trembled, the beginnings of a massive explosion hovering just out of reach.  
She wrenched her mouth from his. “Thranduil, make me come,” she pleaded. “Oh my God, please make me come!”  
His hand caressed her throat as he kissed her, his mouth silencing her desperate cries. Her body flexed against his, her hips grinding back hard against him. He thrust harder, and she howled as her orgasm ripped through her body. He rode her hard, her rapidly convulsing insides squeezing him to his own orgasm. Bucking forwards, he exploded into her depths, shudders rippling through his entire body.  
Breathing hard, he dropped his hands to the bed on either side of her, his chest lightly grazing her back as he touched a kiss to her hot flesh. Using his nose, he pushed her long hair aside, dropping kisses up her spine.  
She shifted without warning, pulling free and flipping over onto her back, then tugged him down on top of her.  
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked, confusion filling his blue eyes.  
“No. I just prefer your mouth on mine,” she panted, lifting her mouth to his.  
He couldn’t resist, melting into her as their lips touched.  
“I love you so much, Tora,” he said, nuzzling her cheek. “I cannot stop telling you now. I love you.” He started to laugh.  
A huge grin lit up her face. “You can tell me as often as you want to,” she said. “Because I love you so much too. And I’ll never tire of telling you.”  
“I shall never tire of hearing you say it,” he whispered, and the humour faded as they gazed into each other’s eyes. “How could we have wasted so much precious time?”  
“Pride,” she said regretfully. “Fear of rejection. I didn’t think you would look twice at me.”  
He frowned. “I thought I made it crystal clear the day I met you,” he said.  
“I do not follow,” she said.  
“When I was questioning the guard? I looked deep into your eyes and said your breasts are perfect,” he replied with a smirk.  
She blushed. “I remember that,” she told him with a shy smile. “I didn’t know you were serious...I thought you were just trying to trap him into showing how much of a liar he was.”  
He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “That also,” he admitted. “But your top had been torn, and I couldn’t stop staring at your breasts!” He started to laugh, a touch embarrassed.  
“I found it pretty difficult not to openly stare at you,” she said, running her hands through his long hair. “I was completely head over heels.”  
“We have a lot of wasted time to catch up on,” he murmered, closing the gap between them until his mouth brushed hers in the softest touch. “And forever to do it.”  
*****  
Tora was nervous as she walked along the passageway.  
Thranduil’s hand tightened around hers, and he glanced down at her as they walked. “You have nothing to worry about,” he assured her. “It is only my opinion that matters, my love. Nobody else’s.”  
She nodded. “I know,” she replied.  
He gave a sly smile, knowing she was lying through her teeth and was wound up tighter than a coiled spring. Pushing open the doors to the dining hall, he led her inside, still holding her hand.  
Legolas and Bard were sitting across from each other, talking as they ate. The conversation halted, and both pairs of eyes turned.  
Tora took what she thought was a silent deep breath, but it obviously wasn’t as Thranduil’s fingers flexed through hers in unspoken reassurance.  
Legolas’s gaze dropped to his father’s throat, before shifting to Tora’s neck, a knowing smile gradually creeping over his face. “I suppose congratulations are in order,” he grinned.  
“About bloody time too!” Bard exclaimed, lifting his cup of tea and tipping it slightly towards them as they approached the table. “Here’s to a long and loving relationship, that _everybody _could see was just waiting to happen!”__  
Thranduil smiled, pulling a chair out for her with one hand, still holding hers with the other until she was seated. He took his place at the top of the table, at a right angle to her.  
Legolas grinned at her. “Happy at last?” he quipped.  
She smiled, a genuinely happy smile. “I am,” she nodded.  
“Good,” he replied, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “Welcome to the family.”  
“Thankyou,” she said softly. “Your approval means a lot to me.”  
Thranduil snorted good-naturedly as he waved one of the servants over, issuing orders. The servant bowed and vanished.  
“I have my eye on a fine elf,” Legolas said. “I might arrange for a similar dress to the one you wore last night, see if it brings me any luck.”  
Bard started to laugh, choking on his tea. “You’ll need more than a dress to bring you luck, my friend,” he coughed. “Unless you wear the thing yourself!”  
Even Thranduil laughed at that.  
“I’m afraid the dress is ruined,” she said wistfully.  
“It can be replaced,” he told her, glancing at her. “The dress is not important. You are.”  
“My old man is right,” Legolas agreed, ignoring the warning glare from the King. “The kitchen was a dangerous place for you to be, Tora.”  
“I had to try and put the damned fire out,” she said. “The kitchen staff seemed useless. As soon as I showed up they disappeared.”  
Thranduil scowled, slamming his cup onto the table. “They what?” he thundered.  
She looked at him, unsure of how to respond.  
“Tora?” he pushed.  
She glanced at her companions, looking for an escape.  
Thranduil reached for her hand, which was resting on the table. “They abandoned the kitchen when you went in?” he questioned.  
“Yes,” she said slowly. “Look, they couldn’t see anything through the smoke, and-“  
“That is irrelevant,” he snapped. He glared at his son. “Find out who was on duty last night, and bring them to me,” he ordered. “A woman – my woman - goes down to try and fix their mistake – their dangerous mistake – and they abandon her where she could have died?!”  
“Calm down,” she urged him. “I’m alright.”  
“But you would not have been, had someone not been there with you,” Bard pointed out. “Whatever was in the oven exploded...you would have been burned either way.”  
“I was not aware the staff had disappeared,” Legolas admitted, giving his father a worried look. “That says a lot about looking out for others, doesn’t it?”  
“I shall be saying a lot more than that,” Thranduil said determinedly. He fell silent as the servant returned, carrying a large platter and setting it before him. He retreated silently to the edge of the hall. Thranduil sighed quietly and moved the platter so it was positioned between himself and Tora, lifting a slice of buttered toast and handing it to her.  
She smiled as she took it from him, their fingers brushing.  
He smiled back.  
“Oh lord,” Legolas muttered, leaning against the back of his seat.  
“What?” Bard questioned, cutting into thick slices of bacon.  
“Nothing,” he chuckled. “Just these two love-birds making eyes at one another all the time now.”  
“Envy gets you nowhere, my son,” Thranduil informed him, amusement in his eyes.  
“I am not envious, I am delighted for both of you,” Legolas corrected him. “But please – no sexy carry-ons at the dining table!”  
Tora laughed, slapping his arm. “Behave yourself,” she said. “We will not do anything in your presence.”  
“No. We will wait until you have taken your leave, then do it on the table,” Thranduil said with a straight face.  
Tora gasped, then burst out laughing at the look on Legolas’s face. “Holy shit, I am having absolutely _nothing _to do with this conversation,” she decided, taking a bite of her toast.__  
Thranduil grinned. “Be careful who you wage a war of words with,” he reminded his son.  
Bard chortled away on his side of the table, shaking his head.  
Legolas rolled his eyes. “As I said Tora, welcome to the family. Keep a tight grip on your sanity, because it is sure to vanish before long!”  
“I am not particularly sure I have any sanity to begin with,” she muttered.  
Thranduil took a drink of tea before handing his cup to her, a sultry smile hovering around the corners of his mouth. She took the cup, reading the indecent thoughts that lurked in his mind. His eyes showed them as clear as day.  
“I have the feeling that we are excess baggage,” Legolas decided with a laugh as he pushed his chair back. “I will look into who was in the kitchens last night, and see how the clean-up is progressing.”  
“Oh Legolas...I’m sorry,” Tora said. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” She glanced at Thranduil, looking for support.  
“I’m not,” he said. “I have duties to attend to.” A large grin accompanied his words, and he winked at her as he excused himself and left.  
She turned pleading eyes back to the King, who smirked to himself. “That’s not fair on him,” she said.  
“He is an adult,” he said, taking a bite of toast. “He knows what adults do when they are alone. He knows what sex is.”  
She shook her head, catching Bard’s snigger as he drained the last of his tea on the other side of the table.  
“I too have things to attend to,” he informed them, rising to his feet. “No doubt we will catch up later?”  
“Of course,” Thranduil replied. “If you require anything in the meantime, please let me know.”  
“I will,” the man said, and left them alone.  
She gazed at Thranduil, her insides melting as his light blue eyes held hers. He studied her for a few moments, before reaching across and wiping a small smudge of butter from the corner of her mouth with his thumb.  
“I doubt I shall be able to keep my hands off you,” he murmered. “Now that I know how sweet you taste, how you respond in my arms, how your body accepts mine like we were made to fit each other...”  
Her cheeks flamed as memories of the night flooded back to her, and she swallowed.  
He seemed to snap himself back to reality, a decisive frown arching down over his eyes as he cleared his throat. “We have lots to get through today,” he said.  
She nodded, taking a drink of tea. “Yes. I would like your permission to oversee what is going on in the kitchens,” she said.  
His eyes lifted to her in surprise. “That is not a task for you, my angel,” he said in astonishment.  
She shrugged. “I fear it will not be done with time restraints in mind, or with the right input otherwise,” she said. “I suppose I feel a bit territorial after the day I spent down there yesterday and the effort I put in.”  
He smiled, taking her hand in his as he ate. “Then if that is what makes you happy, you have my blessing,” he said. “But only if you promise to let me know immediately if there is anything that requires my attention.”  
“I do,” she whispered, a wicked gleam in her eyes as he glanced at her again, his breakfast forgotten.  
He moved at lightning speed, grasping the back of her neck and dragging her towards him, his mouth merging with hers in a passionate, open-mouthed kiss. “Any time, my love,” he whispered against her. “Any time you desire.”  
Flames of lust blazed in the depths of his eyes, and she wriggled in her chair, trying to ease the gnawing ache between her legs.  
Rubbing her mouth softly against his, she reluctantly pulled back. “We have a full day to get through,” she said, albeit grudgingly.  
“Then I shall keep the memory of you falling apart in my arms to get me through the day,” he told her, releasing his hold on her.  
She grinned, rising to her feet. “I need to make a start,” she said, hesitating. She leaned down and framed his face with her hands, kissing him deeply. Breaking the kiss, she sighed as she leaned her forehead against his, before turning and leaving the dining hall.  
He watched her go.


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

Thranduil had wasted no time in tracking down the servants who had been assigned to work the kitchens the previous night, the ones who had abandoned their posts as soon as Tora had shown up, effectively leaving her to die down there.  
Legolas had supplied a handful of names, and was still working on who else was supposed to have been on duty.  
Thranduil’s guards had rounded up those he was aware of, hauling them up before their furious King, who had yelled and roared like a bull at their inadequacy and insubordination. He had let his temper loose, frightening everyone within earshot, and half the palace had heard him bellowing in rage.  
Bard had commented to Legolas that he was glad he was not one of the servants being verbally slaughtered, as his ears were almost bleeding from the furious yelling, and he wasn’t even in the room.  
Legolas had merely laughed and pointed out that when his father cared deeply about something, in this case Tora, all hell would break loose if any harm should ever befall her.  
Tora had taken one of the servants down to the kitchens to find out what the state of affairs was down in the dark depths. Disappointment had flooded through her as she noted that practically nothing had been done since the fire had been extinguished.  
Shaking her head, she turned to Rangol, the servant who accompanied her. “Will you help me with this?” she asked, a sad tone in her voice.  
“Of course, m’lady,” he replied instantly. “It is my place to assist you.”  
She gazed at him, stunned at the loyalty and respect the elves had for Thranduil. He may have a reputation for being cold, heartless, and cruel that stretched from one end of Middle Earth to the other, but he cared about his people and treated them well. They in turn cared for him, and would move mountains to serve him.  
Most of them, anyway.  
“It is not your place,” she corrected softly. “I ask you as a friend, Rangol.”  
He smiled, stepping over debris. “If I may be permitted to voice my thoughts..?”  
She frowned. “Of course,” she said. “You do not need my permission.”  
He turned to her, hesitating as he chose his words. “The people here are thankful that our King has finally found someone he loves,” he said. “He has been alone for far too long, and had cut himself away from everyone around him. Your presence has brought many changes, and will continue to do so. I speak for our people when I say that as I have pledged my allegiance to my King, I also plead my allegiance to you.” He ended with a bow.  
She swallowed away the lump that had appeared in her throat, blinking tears away. “Wow...that is deep,” she said, emotion clear in the catch of her voice. “Rangol, I truly appreciate what you have said, more than I can tell you. But I am always going to be your friend. Please do not look at me as anything other than that, do not give me a status that is not mine. I will never change.”  
He smiled. “I shall remind you of your words the day you are crowned my Queen,” he told her, before turning to clear the mess.  
Her jaw dropped. Giving herself a mental kick, she threw herself into her task.  
*****  
Thranduil sighed in frustration, striding along the passageway and throwing open the doors of the council meeting room. “The answer is no, Veltar. I am not in the practice of repeating myself like a parrot.”  
“But my Lord-“ the lord insisted.  
“Enough!” Thranduil said, stopping and whirling round to face the smaller man. “I have said all I am going to say on the subject.” Cold eyes glared down at him.  
The lord backed down, retreating with a mumbled apology.  
Thranduil muttered something obscene under his breath.  
“Exciting day?” Legolas inquired, looking up from a pile of documents in his hands.  
His father grunted, lowering himself down into the chair across from him and folding one long leg over the other. “I have had enough of the snivelling and whinging from those ungrateful reprobates,” he said. “Perhaps I should strip them of their titles and put them into more suitable positions. Like floor-scrubbers.”  
Legolas chuckled. “Yes, it does appear to be one of those days all round,” he remarked.  
Thranduil reclined lazily against the back of his seat, stifling a yawn.  
“Not much sleep last night?” his son asked with a dirty grin.  
He glared at him. “Green does not become you, my son,” he said dryly.  
“Yet it seems to be the only colour I wear,” Legolas quipped. “Seriously – Tora is good for you. I just cannot believe how it took the two of you so long. Everybody was beginning to wonder if it would happen at all, you were both ducking and diving around one another.”  
Thranduil smiled. “Good things come to those who wait,” he murmered, his thoughts turning to the beauty he’d held in his arms the previous night. The beauty who had almost drowned him as she’d orgasmed, who had practically screamed the palace down in passion, and who had taken him to heights he didn’t know were there as they had made love to each other.  
Legolas grinned, shaking his head as he went back to his paperwork. “I really do not want to know what is going through your mind right now,” he said. “Some things should not be shared between parents and their children.”  
“And some things shall not be shared,” Thranduil replied with a grin of his own as he stood. “I cannot laze around here all day listening to your nonsense, I have things to do.”  
“Keep them decent, and out of public viewing,” his son said to his retreating back, a tremor of laughter in his voice.  
“Of course. I would not wish to shame your own performance with the ladies,” he replied over his shoulder.  
“Enough!” Legolas roared.  
Thranduil laughed and left the room.  
*****  
“Holy shit, this is not getting any better,” Tora remarked, straightening her back and wiping the sweat from her forehead. “It seems that the more we clear, the more appears!”  
Rangol nodded, lifting smoke-damaged rubbish and dumping it in a pile over by the doorway. “It does appear so, m’lady” he replied.  
“Tora,” she corrected him.  
He grinned. “If King Thranduil-“  
“Never mind what he would say,” she interrupted. “No-one is around, so quit with the formalities, for heaven’s sake.”  
“As you wish,” he laughed. “Can you reach those empty buckets over there?”  
“Yup, two seconds,” she replied, stretching over a scorched workbench and lifting the pile of water pails. Turning to hand them over, her eyes lifted as an ominous creak shattered the silence. “What the hell was that?”  
Rangol glanced around. “I do not know,” he murmered.  
The creak sounded again.  
She screamed as part of the ceiling crashed down, and jumped back in fright. The heavy wooden beam crashed against the back of her shoulder as it fell, and she staggered forwards with the impact. Falling to her knees, she coughed through the thick clouds of dust and soot that obscured her vision.  
“Rangol?” she shouted. “Rangol, are you alright?”  
“Yes,” the muffled reply came. “Oh my God...I cannot move!”  
Panic filled her as she pushed herself shakily to her feet and moved blindly towards the direction of his voice. “Oh fuck,” she gasped.  
The other end of the beam had crashed through the worktop, pinning her companion to the floor amid a pile of rubble.  
She grabbed the solid wood, heaving all her weight, but it would not move. She tried again, cringing at his yells of agony. “Fuck!” she shouted. Taking a deep breath, she roared for help at the top of her lungs.  
After a few moments, a guard flew down the stone steps.  
“Go and fetch the King,” she shouted. “And hurry!”  
Another loud creak echoed throughout the workspace.  
“Tora, get out of here,” Rangol urged her, wincing in pain.  
“No,” she snapped. “I’m going to get you out of here.”  
She jumped as another section crashed to the floor a few feet away, a cry of fright escaping from her.  
“Tora, go, please!” he begged her. “You are more important to the King, please, go!”  
“Shut up,” she replied, trying again to lift the end of the beam from him so he could free himself. It was futile. The wood was far too heavy for her to budge. “Oh my God!” she wailed, feeling helpless.  
“Tora!”  
Relief flooded through her as Thranduil’s roar reached her ears. “Down here!” she shouted.  
Heavy foodsteps pounded down the steps, and his massive form filled the doorway.  
“My God,” he gasped.  
“Please help me,” she pleaded. “Rangol is stuck, I can’t free him.”  
He jumped over piles of rubble to kneel at her side.  
“My Lord,” Rangol gasped. “Please...take m’lady Tora to safety.”  
“No!” she snapped.  
Thranduil didn’t reply, instead grasped the beam and tried to lift it. The end lifted fractionally.  
“Dammit!” he grunted, letting go. Turning to the guard who waited in the doorway, he barked out orders for him to fetch others and bring them down. The guard retreated immediately.  
His eyes lifted as another loud creak sounded, then lowered to Tora.  
Her eyes were terrified. “That’s the fourth one,” she whispered.  
“Please, my Lord, take her out of here,” Rangol pleaded.  
The resounding thump of the approaching guards echoed down the stone steps.  
Thranduil grabbed Tora’s arm, pulling her to her feet. “Come on,” he said.  
“No! I’m not leaving him!” she cried.  
“The whole ceiling is going to fall!” he told her.  
She stared at him, pulling against him. “I cannot leave him down here,” she insisted.  
The guards rushed into the destroyed kitchens.  
“Get him out of here and vacate the area,” he ordered, and lifted her bodily over his shoulder.  
She roared in anger, but he ignored her and swiftly strode up the steps, his grip on her firm and secure. He stopped at the top, leaning forwards and dropping her to her feet, and an ear-splitting crash sounded as he straightened.  
She gasped and moved to pass him, but his arm shot out and he grabbed her in an iron grip.  
“No Tora, you cannot go back down there!” he said firmly.  
As he spoke, his guards appeared, ascending the steps carrying an injured Rangol. He was pale and bleeding.  
“Take him to Bryden,” Thranduil ordered. He touched his servant’s arm as they passed. “You will be alright,” he promised him.  
They continued on their way, leaving the two of them behind.  
Thranduil turned to her. “Are you alright?” he asked, concern in his eyes as he touched her face.  
She nodded, closing her eyes. “I just had a fright, that’s all,” she said, her voice low.  
“You are now prohibited from going anywhere near this area,” he said. “Twice now you have almost lost your life. I will not risk it a third time.”  
She shrugged, rubbing her hands over her face.  
He slid his arms around her shoulders to pull her into his embrace, but she shrieked in pain and pulled sharply away from his touch.  
“Tora? What is it? You are injured!” he said in panic. “Show me!”  
“No!” she cried, backing away from him. “Leave me alone.”  
“Tora, what is wrong? Let me see,” he urged, stepping towards her.  
She flinched away, terrified. Her eyes held the look of a cornered wild animal. He stopped in shock as he realised he had seen that look in her eyes once before.  
His mind went back to the first time he’d set eyes on her, when the orc had been within an inch of beating the life from her. He’d cut the foul creature down, and when he’d looked at her, the same terror had burned in her blue eyes.  
She breathed hard, watching him warily.  
“Please let me help you, my love,” he said quietly.  
She shook her head in stubborn denial. “It is only a scratch,” she said. “I will deal with it myself.”  
His mouth opened, but she flew past him before he could say anything. He turned and watched her pound along the passageway away from him, a dark red stain on her left shoulder blade.  
Stunned, he stood rooted to the spot, unsure of what he had done or why she was in such a state.  
*****  
Tora hunched forwards, breathing deeply through the agony that radiated from her shoulder. Fighting the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm her, she sniffed and straightened, knowing she had to try and fix herself.  
She slowly rotated her left arm, satisfied that nothing had been broken or dislocated. The falling beam seemed to have touched her with a glancing blow, but hard enough to cause her severe pain.  
Her body stiffened as she heard the door behind her open, then close quietly. Several seconds passed, before a warm, gentle hand touched the top of her head.  
Thranduil appeared before her, concern in his eyes. He withdrew his hand, lowering himself to sit on his knees in front of her. “I want to help,” he said. “But I cannot, if you close me out. I do not know what I have done to upset you.”  
“You haven’t done anything,” she replied. “I just need to tend to this myself. I don’t need a healer or anything.”  
His eyes never shifted from hers, and she could feel her defences being torn down, one by one. “If I was injured, you would cut the arms off anyone who tried to prevent you from helping me,” he said.  
She said nothing.  
“So think how I feel,” he said. A few moments passed, and he lifted himself up slightly, closing the gap between them.  
Her eyes closed as his soft mouth brushed over hers in the slightest whisper. She breathed in the scent of him, absorbed the heat from him. The butterfly soft touch of his lips, so slight she was sure she was imagining it, intoxicated her.  
_Crash, crash, crash _.__  
More of her defences fell.  
“Please,” he whispered, his full mouth teasing hers as he spoke. “Let me help you, my angel.”  
Unable to resist him anymore, she moaned softly as she pressed her lips closer, feeling the slight pressure of his. His mouth moved against hers in the slowest, softest kiss she could ever dream of, no pressure, no hurry, no demands. Just a simple touch of sensual flesh against sensual flesh, and nothing more.  
Thinking she could spend eternity sharing this kiss with him, she reluctantly pulled back, her eyes pleading with his.  
He knew by her eyes that one more slight push and she would let him in. “Please,” he whispered.  
She shook her head, lowering it as a solitary tear escaped. “I can’t.”  
“Why not?” he asked. “I love you, Tora. Nothing can change that, nothing ever will.”  
She gasped, lifting her head but looking at something over his shoulder. “I just can’t.”  
He took her hands in his. “Talk to me, my love.”  
A few more tears dripped down her cheeks as she blinked. “It will change,” she whispered.  
He frowned. “Make me understand.”  
“I’ve only just found you,” she whispered brokenly. “I can’t take the risk of losing you already.”  
His frown deepened. “Tora, you will never lose me,” he told her.  
She shook her head. “Anyone who sees it never comes back,” she said, still in a heartbroken whisper. “You mean too much to me.”  
He waited, lifting one of his hands to softly caress her cheek. “Sees what? Show me,” he said softly.  
She waited, before shifting towards him, crushing her mouth to his. “I love you so much,” she breathed against him. “I always will.” With that, she leaned back and pulled her top up over her back, bringing it rest over her front, her arms still in the sleeves.  
Scared eyes met his loving ones.  
He slowly rose, going round to her back. Gentle hands carefully lifted her long hair and moved it over her right shoulder.  
A horrified gasp met her ears, and she broke down.


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

The only sound in the room was Tora’s heart-wrenching sobs.  
Thranduil stared in horror at her shoulders, frozen to the spot and unable to move or think.   
Something crashed into focus. Moving swiftly, he stepped back in front of her again, sinking to his knees and pulling her onto his thighs so her legs rested on either side of his. His arms slid tightly around her waist and he buried his face into her hair.  
She tried to wriggle out of his hold, but he tightened his arms.  
“Stop it, Tora,” he whispered. “This changes nothing. I love you more than anything.”  
Her hands were bunched into fists against his chest, her body trembling as she broke her heart against him. He closed his eyes, his heart anguished at the agony she had carried through the years.  
He slowly brought his hands back round to her front, pushing gently against her shoulders. “Take this off,” he said, taking the top she had on and sliding it down her arms. “I cannot hold you properly like this.” He threw the garment on the floor, bringing her back against him, and this time, her arms went around his neck. “Do not cry angel, please do not cry.”  
She shook her head, a lifetime of anxiety and shame right in front of her. Something she would carry throughout the realms of time.  
He placed a gentle, warm kiss on her shoulder before resting his head against hers, his hands crossed at the wrists on her lower back. Content to hold her, he waited quietly as she fought against the demons that were trying hard to destroy her soul.  
Finally, her sobs slowed and her breathing settled, enough for him to slowly pull back to look at her.  
“Why did you think I would turn away from you?” he asked, searching her eyes as he lifted stray hair from her face with a tender touch. “Why did you think this would have made a difference?”  
“Because others have seen it, and I’ve never seen them afterwards,” she replied, her voice raw.   
“That is because they never loved you the way you deserve to be loved,” he told her. “And I am so thankful for that, because due to their actions, I have the chance to love you for what you are worth.”  
“But it’s horrible,” she whispered.  
“It is a testament as to how strong you are,” he corrected her. “Is this why you pulled away from me this morning, in bed? When I kissed your back?”  
She nodded, lowering her gaze. “I didn’t want you to see it.”  
“It makes no difference whatsoever to how I feel about you,” he said. “None.”  
Sad eyes lifted back to his, so close to hers. “That’s not all of it.”  
Anger pierced through his heart. “Show me,” he said.  
She shook her head. “No. Not just now. Let me deal with this first. Please don’t force me.”  
He gasped. “I would never force you to do anything,” he said. “Do not ever think that, my love. Ever.”  
She rested her forehead against his, exhausted. “It seems like everything I have kept hidden my entire life, tried to forget about, has come back to haunt me since I arrived here,” she said.  
Warm hands caressed her lower back, bringing comfort. “That is because there should be no secrets between lovers,” he whispered. “True love is when you can tell your lover your deepest, darkest secret, and they love you anyway.”  
She took a deep breath, absorbing his strength that she could feel flowing into her body. “You’re doing something,” she murmered.  
“Yes,” he said. “I’m giving you the strength you need right now.”  
“Thankyou,” she whispered. “I don’t deserve you.”  
The magical connection she felt broke as he pulled back to glare at her. “Do not speak like that,” he said, a touch of anger in his words. “I do not wish to hear this.”  
She didn’t answer.  
He took a deep breath. “I will tend to the wound you sustained today,” he said, and she nodded after hesitating. “Afterwards, we shall see what I can do.”  
“About?” she asked.  
He smiled enigmatically, easing her up off his thighs and rising to his feet. He took her hand and led her over to a seat by the open balcony, lifting a soft towel as they passed. He gently pushed her shoulders so she sat astride the chair facing the back, and held the towel over her chest with a loving smile.  
Within a few minutes, he was standing behind her cleaning the wound inflicted by the falling beam.  
“This is not deep,” he remarked, working swiftly. “It is more like a friction burn, where the weight of the wood rubbed against your shoulder as it fell.”  
“I didn’t think it was too serious,” she admitted, resting her head on her arms which were crossed along the back of the seat. His hands moved over her, and before long, she felt the slight pressure of a dressing being taped over the area.  
“That should take care of it,” he said, taking a deep breath. A few seconds passed. “Tora.”  
“What?”  
The way he had said her name made her blood chill.  
Silence.  
“Do you trust me?” he asked.  
“Yes,” she replied.  
Thranduil closed his eyes as he concentrated, then opened them again and focused on her shoulders as he placed his hands on her flesh.  
Large streaks of dark crimson slashed from one side of her back to the other, criss-crossing to three quarters of the way down. The scars were old and deep, inflicted through obvious hatred and disgust.   
A pleasant warmth radiated from his hands and spread across her upper shoulders, and she smiled slightly. Her eyes closed, and she relaxed.  
The heat intensified.  
It grew and grew, until it became a burning pain.  
“Babe, stop,” she said. “That hurts too much.”  
He didn’t respond, but held his hands in place.  
“Thranduil, please,” she cried, in distress.  
Nothing.  
Fire spread across her flesh, burning and consuming her.  
She screamed, writhing under his hands. Still he maintained contact, pressing hard against her. The burning fire roared, she screamed louder. She twisted her body, trying to break the connection between them, the agony intensifying, but he held firm.  
Just as she thought she was going to faint with the agony, he swept his hands away to the sides, dropping them towards the floor in a flourish.  
Tears of pain poured down her face as she panted to breathe.  
Thranduil took another deep breath and put his hands back on her.  
She gulped in a shuddering breath – his hands were ice cold this time.   
The chill spread through her body, cooling the intense burn instantly. She trembled, partly in fear and partly because of the cold. Her heart hammered in her chest, her adrenalin flooding through her system. The noise of her blood rushing around her body whooshed in her ears, deafening her. She felt dizzy and sick.  
Abruptly, he again swept his hands away to his sides, towards the floor. She heard him breathe hard behind her, then felt the soft touch of a towel drape over her back.  
He knelt down beside her, turning her head to face him. “Are you alright?” he asked.  
She nodded, not sure what the hell he had done to her or why. “I think so,” she said quietly.  
“I’m sorry you had to suffer,” he said. “I’m sorry I had to put you through so much pain. I took what I could of it myself, but most if it had to stay with you.”  
“What did you do?” she asked.  
He smiled. “Healed you,” he answered.  
Her eyes widened.  
His smile grew. “Half of the scars are gone,” he said.  
Her mouth opened in shock. “No,” she whispered. “They can’t be.”  
He nodded. “They are. The rest I will take care of in a few days, not now. It is too much for you, and it takes a lot of energy from me.”  
She stared at him, stunned. “How..?”  
He shrugged. “I would not be much of an elf King if I did not have the gift of healing,” he told her. His eyes turned serious. “But I mean when I say we must wait a few days before I work on what is left. Your body cannot take too much at once, my love. It is too dangerous for you.”  
Tears burned her eyes as she gazed at him. “I don’t...” she trailed off.  
He rose to his feet, taking her hand and pulling her from the seat, holding the towel against her chest. Dropping a tender kiss on her mouth, he pulled back and smiled. “Now you must rest,” he advised. “And myself. I need to recharge after doing that.”  
She lifted herself up onto her toes, pressing her mouth against his. “Thankyou so much,” she whispered brokenly. “I don’t know how to tell you-“  
He cut her off by covering her mouth with his own, moving his lips in a gentle, coaxing manner against hers. “Sshhh,” he whispered. “Come to bed, angel. We both need to sleep for a while.”  
Leading her over to the bed, he pulled the blankets back and guided her onto the comforting softness, lowering himself down behind her and tucking his arms around her. “I love you,” he whispered, kissing her neck.  
“I love you too,” she whispered back.  
*****  
Tora jumped, startled, as a glass of fruit juice appeared over her left shoulder.  
“Thankyou,” she said, lifting her eyes to meet Thranduil’s.   
He smiled, circling round to lower himself to the grass beside her. “I thought you would appreciate something cool to drink,” he said.  
“Mmm,” she agreed, sipping the cold apple juice.  
The sun cast a warm glow over the grounds, the sky in which it rested bright blue. An inner warmth tingled through her as he reached over and took her hand in his.  
“How do you feel?” he asked.  
She nodded. “Better. I had a really deep sleep, and couldn’t believe I’d slept right through the night,” she replied.  
“You needed it, angel,” he said. “What you went through drains your energy.”  
“How about you, are you alright?”  
He nodded. “Back to normal,” he told her. “You said something a while ago, about your father used to whip you. I suppose..?” He trailed off, knowing he need not finish his question.  
“Yes,” she said. “I took infections in the wounds every time he did it.”  
His nostrils flared as he stared at something in the distance, his fingers tightening around hers. A long silence passed before he spoke. “The people who birthed you deserved everything that befell them,” he said. “A capable healer could have healed those wounds a long, long time ago. Not only should you not have had to suffer what you did, you should not have had to carry the scars around all these years as a constant reminder.” He took a deep breath, turning his light blue eyes to her. “I only wish I had known you centuries ago, my love. You need not have gone through so much pain and heartache.”  
“Things happen for a reason,” she philosophised. “I cannot change the past, I just have to deal with it.”  
“You do not; we do,” he corrected.  
She smiled. “It is my problem.”  
“If you have a problem, you share it with me. Then it becomes our problem, therefore it is not a problem after all,” he reasoned.  
She frowned, before laughing softly at his logic. “You have a way with words,” she commented. “A way with everything.”  
He returned her smile.  
“I have something to ask you,” she said.  
“Ask me anything, my love,” he told her.  
She chewed the inside of her lip, studying him. “How did you find out about my true identity?”  
“Do you remember the messenger who I spoke to, when I came out of the wine cellar?” he asked. She nodded. “He had been in one of the villages in Rivendell, and had heard some dwarves talking in an inn. They were talking about you, and Gandalf’s supposed mission.”  
She frowned. “What do you mean, supposed?”  
He hesitated, a heartbroken look in his eyes. “I am not sure I should say anything,” he whispered.  
“Why not?”  
“Because you might go back, and I do not want you to leave,” he whispered.  
She gazed at him in confusion. “I don’t understand.”  
His chest heaved as he inhaled deeply, his fingers tightening through hers. His hand trembled slightly, enough for her to notice. “If rumour is to be believed, Gandalf did not leave to go on any quest,” he said quietly. “He sent you here under the guise that he was leaving to go on a mission, but from what my messenger picked up, there was no mission.”  
“So why would he lie?” she pondered. Her gaze turned back to him. “And why do you think I would leave?” she demanded. “Do you want me to go back?”  
He shook his head. “No. I love you and I want you to stay here, with me,” he told her. “I never want to be anywhere else other than by your side.”  
“Then that is where you will be,” she said. “Although I do have one issue I want to settle.”  
“Anything,” he said.  
“There has been talk over the years about you having a different woman in your bed every night,” she said, fighting the jealousy that reared its head within her heart. “I love you beyond anything else, Thranduil, but I will not share.”  
He frowned. “Where do these rumours come from?” he exclaimed. “Tora, I promise you with everything that I believe in and stand for – there has been no-one since Legolas’s mother died. That is my oath. Any one of my servants and guards could testify to that.”  
She nodded, aware of how quickly her heartbeat had accelerated.   
“Rumours like that can destroy lives,” he said, anger in his voice. “That makes me sound like a sex-crazed maniac who would sleep with anything that passed.”  
She flexed her fingers, still held in his. “I just wanted to be sure,” she said.  
“I understand,” he told her, with a sad smile. “People make me wonder.”  
She laughed, her mood lifting a little. “Well, being the King and all, apparently you had massive sex parties that lasted for days, and you fucked everything and anything.”  
He shook his head. “And you still took an interest in me, despite the rumours.”  
“I never saw any evidence of it,” she said. “And I trusted my instinct. And my heart.”  
He leaned towards her, gently brushing his lips against hers. “I only belong to you, my angel,” he murmered. “And I only ever will.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tora's mischievous side gets her into trouble with Thranduil.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

“Well, I cannot say this has been an uneventful visit,” Bard laughed.  
Tora smiled. “It definitely wasn’t dull, I’ll agree to that much,” she said. “I could do without that kind of drama happening every day.”  
Thranduil placed his hand on her shoulder as he passed behind her, stooping to place a soft kiss on her cheek. She closed her eyes briefly in pleasure at his gentle touch.  
“It’s great to see you two looking so happy,” Bard said, watching them over the rim of his cup. “It has been a long time in coming, Thranduil.”  
The King smiled, seating himself adjacent to her. “You know what they say about an elf’s patience,” he said. He glanced at her. “She was worth the wait.”  
Tora smiled, lowering her eyes in mild embarrassment. “So when are you planning on setting off?” she asked.  
Bard grunted. “First light,” he replied. “It is a long way for the horses, so I prefer to take my time rather than hurry them.”  
“My guards will accompany you through the forest as usual,” Thranduil told him.  
“Thankyou,” he said. “The woods creep me out more and more every time I travel through them.”  
“There are parts of the forest even I would not venture alone,” Thranduil said. “And I must make sure you are aware of which areas are dangerous, my love,” he added, to Tora.  
She nodded. “That’s fine. Although I don’t see much chance of me being out there alone anyway.”  
“No, I do not like the idea,” he said.  
A servant placed tea before him, then retreated.  
“You may go anywhere you wish,” he continued, talking to her. “All I ask is that you are accompanied. If I am not available, Legolas will be.”  
She smiled. “You have enough to contend with, without babysitting me,” she said.  
He frowned.  
“Uh-oh,” Bard said. “No arguments, please – not on my last night!”  
“We don’t argue...yet,” she laughed. “Anyway, if I want to go somewhere, I will let you know.”  
“Good,” he nodded. “I have some things to discuss with our friend here before he leaves tomorrow, will you be alright by yourself this afternoon?”  
“Of course. I might go and have a lie down for a while,” she said. “My shoulder was quite sore last night, and I think a rest might settle it a little.”  
“Is it still troubling you?” Bard asked.  
“Just a little,” she replied, knowing he meant where the beam had caught her, rather than the healing Thranduil had done, as he wasn’t aware of that. “Anyway, I think I shall leave you to it.” She stood up, and Thranduil caught her hand as she rose, pulling her to him for a kiss.  
*****  
Tora flipped her head from side to side, making sure she wasn’t being watched. Satisfied that she was alone, she prised open the heavy wooden door and slipped inside, pulling it closed behind her. Stifling a mischievous giggle, she flew down the curved flight of steps.  
“Tora! You will get us all hung if King Thranduil finds you down here!” Rangol exclaimed as he turned and caught sight of her. “What are you doing here?”  
She folded her arms, glancing around the construction site that used to be the kitchens. “Making sure everything is done right,” she muttered. “How are you feeling?” she asked, turning her gaze back to him.  
“Fit and healthy,” he grinned. “Thanks to you and the King.”  
She scoffed. “Hey! You can’t put that there, the work unit goes there,” she called, catching sight of two elves attempting to wedge lengths of wood into a space intended for other purposes. “Bloody hell...talk about not having a clue.”  
Rangol chuckled to himself. “Just do not let the King catch you,” he warned.  
“He won’t. He’s busy,” she said, distracted. “Look, you carry on with whatever you were doing. I’m going to take up those weakened floorboards over there and put the new ones in.”  
“Be careful,” he said, but she had already flitted over to the other side of the huge area.  
Lifting a heavy metal bar along the way, she dropped to her backside on the floor and worked on prying the fire-damaged floorboards up. They came loose eventually, one by one, as she panted with effort.  
“Do you need my help, Tora?” Rangol called over.  
“No, thankyou, I’m alright,” she called back, stretching her back muscles. “This should have been done before anything else, these boards are so dangerous. Anyone could fall through them. At least someone had the common sense to reinforce the bloody ceiling.”  
Time flew past as she worked herself into a sweat, removing every damaged plank. She had to rely on Rangol to assist her in moving them, much though she hated to ask, but they were too heavy for her to manage herself. Between them they cleared the old planks off to one side, hauling the new ones over for her to work on.  
“Nails!” she yelled over the hammering and banging around her.  
One of the elves tossed a wooden box over, and she caught it mid-air, settling into a more comfortable position on her knees. Sweat rolled down her back and dripped off her forehead as she toiled, hammering each plank into perfect position.  
Moving along the floor in sections, her knees were raw by the time she was halfway through her task. Ignoring them, she kept going.  
“Tora!” an angry roar bellowed down the steps.  
Her head shot up, a look of horror on her face, catching her friend’s eye. “Oh fuck,” she gasped, and flew to her feet, dropping the hammer. “I’m not here!” she whispered frantically, running for cover.  
Heavy footsteps stormed down the stone steps and pounded along the passage. “Where is Tora?” Thranduil demanded angrily.  
Rangol stuttered and stammered.  
She moved in silence, creeping between large wooden storage crates, her heart pounding inside her. Pressing herself up against one, she closed her eyes and waited for him to leave.  
“I know she’s here!” he roared. “I heard her say _oh fuck _! Where is she?”__  
Poor Rangol looked like he was about to pass out, as Thranduil glared down at him. The elf’s eyes darted nervously past him, and he turned to see what he was looking at.  
A half-finished floor met his eyes, an open box of nails, planks of fresh wood strewn around, and a hammer dropped suspiciously right in the middle of everything.  
Almost like it had been dropped in a hurry.  
He turned slowly back to his servant, who swallowed in fear.  
Tora stayed as still as a statue, not daring to breathe. Thranduil had exceptional hearing, and would hunt her down if he could track in on her breathing.  
Everything had gone silent.  
She screamed in terror as two strong arms grabbed her from behind, turning and lifting her at speed. She found herself upside down over a broad shoulder and heading up the steps. Roaring and yelling, she wriggled and fought, but the iron grip held fast. Rapid strides carried her further and further away from the kitchens, back up onto the main level.  
Passageways twisted and turned, and eventually she gave up and instead admired the length of his hair as he marched in silence, and his long tunic swishing around his muscular legs as he moved.  
She felt the impact as he booted a door open, and found herself in his chambers. The breath left her as he tipped her backwards, dumping her onto her feet in front of him.  
Furious blue eyes glared at her.  
“What the _hell _were you doing down there?” he demanded. “Did I not purposefully tell you that you were prohibited from being there? Do you remember what happened the last two times you were there? Does your life mean that little to you? Because it does not mean little to me, Tora, it means everything to me!” He trailed off, sighing in exasperation and turning away, rubbing his hand over his eyes.__  
Her heart fell. She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t anger him further. The fact that he was angry because he cared spoke volumes to her.  
He turned back to her, his teeth clenched. “If you were anyone else, you would be in the dungeons for disobeying my orders,” he said. “Although you would probably find a way out of there as well.” He lowered his head, shaking it as he did so.  
She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, meaning it.  
His head lifted and he gazed at her, unblinking. He moved suddenly, stepping towards her and cupping her face with his hands, crushing his mouth to hers. Her head tipped back with the force of his kiss, her hands gripping his chest for support.  
Dragging his mouth away from hers, he shook his head again, staring at her swollen lips. “You are so precious to me, my angel,” he whispered. “I could not stand it if something happened to you, do you understand me? I need you Tora, I cannot be without you ever again.”  
She nodded, still holding him. “I truly didn’t mean to make you angry,” she said.  
A heavy silence followed.  
“Why did you go against my orders?” he asked after a while, releasing her and turning away, taking a few steps.  
She sighed, going over and sitting on the edge of the bed. “I wanted to check on progress,” she said. “When I got there, it was like...just so disorganised. Things being put in the wrong places, things not being done in the right order. The damaged floorboards hadn’t even been taken up, and they’re really dangerous...things like that.”  
He swung round to look at her. “That is not your job,” he told her.  
“My job is to look after your best interests,” she said, taking a chance on riling him again but deciding she had to say it.  
He inhaled deeply. “I took you on as my personal aide,” he said. “As my lover, you no longer have to fulfil that role.”  
She gasped. “You’re firing me?” she exclaimed. “Why?”  
“No, I am not,” he told her. “You are not expected to work anymore, that is all. Believe me, I will struggle to find someone who worked as well as you.”  
She shot off the bed, bounding to her feet. “You don’t need to find anyone!” she cried. “I enjoyed what I did!”  
“It is not right that you work, my love,” he said quietly.  
She glared at him. “But I choose to,” she said. “And you said yourself, I’m good at it.”  
“You are,” he answered. “Too good. You have managed to anger quite a few people already with the way you have a talent for finding mistakes, genuine or deliberate.”  
“This is bullshit,” she hissed.  
He threw his hands up in the air, seemingly lost. “If you want to work, then fine...you can work. If that is what will make you happy, then I will agree to it. But it is not an expected duty anymore.”  
She blinked, not expecting him to back down so fast.  
He stepped towards her, taking her hands in his. “I just want you to be happy,” he said. “I really mean it, Tora. Your happiness is everything to me. And your safety.”  
“Please come down with me and see what we’ve done in the kitchens,” she said, a pleading look in her eyes. “It’s safe down there now, the roof has been reinforced and I’ve almost finished the floorboards.”  
He stared at her, pursing his mouth, and the look in his eyes wasn’t a happy one. Light blue eyes bored into hers, and she wondered if she had pushed him too far.  
He closed his eyes briefly as he glanced away from her. “Fine,” he said. “But you leave when I do, understand?”  
“I will,” she promised with a smile.  
“I can see this being the future of things to come,” he muttered, leading her from the room and back along the dim passageway. “I say one thing, you go off and do something entirely different. I tell you yes, you say no. I say up, you say down. I am going mad.”  
She laughed, swinging their joined hands between them as they walked. “But I love you,” she reminded him.  
He cast her a sideways glance. “I see a light in you that others do not possess,” he remarked. “And I never wish for that light to be extinguished. I respect your freedom, your free will. But every now and again I will tell you something for nothing other than your own safety, do you understand me? And for what it is worth...I love you too.”  
She halted, pulling him to a stop beside her, and stood on her toes. Pressing her lips against his, she smiled into the kiss. “You mean everything to me,” she whispered. “I do not wish to make you angry.”  
He rested his forehead against hers. “I get angry when I think of you in danger,” he told her. Standing back to his full height, he turned to the door leading down into the kitchens. “Show me what mischief you have been up to.”  
They walked hand in hand down the long flight of steps, and she nodded a greeting to Rangol, who immediately fled from the King’s presence, not wishing to be punished. Thranduil paced around the workspace, his critical eye taking in every detail.  
He stopped at the half-finished floor, scrutinizing it and glancing up at her. Saying nothing, he continued to pace.  
She felt a twinge of disappointment.  
She waited while he inspected the progress, hoisting herself up to sit on an installed work station, swinging her feet.  
He finally came back to her, halting in front of her. “You have my permission to complete the floor,” he said, and her jaw dropped in shock. “But..!” He held a hand up as she squealed in excitement. “I can see you have worked like a workhorse doing this, so I will allow you to finish it. But I will be working alongside you.”  
Her eyes widened. “What?”  
“Angel, this is hard, heavy work,” he said, his words gentle. “I know how much it means to you to have it done the right way. Therefore I will help you with it.”  
“But...you’re the King, you should not be fixing floorboards!” she exclaimed.  
He shrugged. “It is that, or nothing,” he told her, a small smile of amusement lurking.  
“Do I have a choice?”  
He smirked, revealing the dimple in his left cheek. “Of course you do,” he replied, gently lifting her from the worktop back to the floor. “Work with me, or do not complete your project.”  
She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to think of a way to out-smart him.  
His smirk remained. “You will not get the better of me, my darling,” he whispered, dropping a kiss to her mouth. “Now...what is your choice?”  
She grunted in frustration. “Fine...I will work with you,” she said in mild exasperation. “But if your guards see you doing this, they’ll think you’ve taken leave of your senses.”  
“Maybe I have,” he drawled, shrugging his cloak from his broad shoulders. Her mouth went dry as she watched him move, noting the strength in the concealed muscles of his chest and arms. Catching her eye, he winked, making her blush. “Work before love-making,” he told her, and tossed the garment up onto a shelf.  
She shook her head to clear it of her indecent thoughts.


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 

Tora sat back on her heels, dragging the back of her hand across her cheek, smudging the streak of dirt further across her face.  
Thranduil glanced over at her, amusement in his light blue eyes. “Maybe we should leave it for today,” he suggested.  
She glared at him. “No. I want to finish. We only have four more sections to replace, then it’s done. There’s no point in leaving it until tomorrow.”  
She didn’t tell him that come sunrise, she probably wouldn’t be able to walk. He reached behind him, dragging a heavy plank of wood over as though it weighed nothing in his strong hands. A twinge of envy rippled through her. He caught the look in her eyes, but chose not to comment.  
Between them, they finally installed the last four thick planks, and she collapsed back onto her rear, falling further onto her back, sweat blinding her, and pain arching through every muscle she had.  
He loomed over her, leaning on one hand planted on the floor beside her. “Have you done too much?” he asked, one eyebrow lifted.  
“No,” she snapped, dragging herself back up into a sitting position with a groan. “A hot bath is all I need.” She glanced over her shoulder, looking for her friend. “Rangol!” she called.  
“Yes, m’lady, my Lord,” he responded, appearing instantly.  
She lifted her head so she could focus on the loyal servant. “I think we are going to leave for now,” she told him. “The floor is complete, and I need to soak the dirt from me – I stink.”  
He bowed in respect. “May I thank you both for your assistance here,” he said. “We could not have achieved this much had you not been helping us.”  
She waved a hand carelessly. “At least that section is safe now,” she said. Thranduil watched her as she spoke, not taking his eyes off her. “Would you instruct that bunch of lard-arses over there to get rid of the old wood? They don’t seem to be doing much anyway, and I don’t have it in me right now to drag it upstairs.”  
“And you will not be dragging anything upstairs, except yourself,” Thranduil put in. “Your effort in your work today has been noted,” he said to Rangol.  
The servant bowed and disappeared.  
“Come,” he said, turning back to Tora and extending his hand. She gratefully took it, wincing in pain as he pulled her to her feet. Stern blue eyes glared at her. “You have overdone things,” he accused.  
“No I have not, I’m just a little stiff, that’s all,” she grumbled, hobbling along beside him as they made their way across the workspace.  
“Anything to get into my arms,” he muttered, and she squealed as he swung her up into his arms, carrying her towards the steps.  
“Oh my God, you can’t carry me!” she laughed, but didn’t have the strength to fight him.  
He stopped, his blue eyes inches from hers.  
Her heart missed a beat.  
“You are crazy,” he said softly. “And I love your craziness.” A brief kiss followed.  
She relented, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her head against his shoulder, content in the arms of the warrior who carried her.  
“Good night, my lord, m’lady,” Rangol called cheerfully, an amused grin on his face.  
“Good night Rangol,” Thranduil replied as he swept up the steps. “See to it that you retire for the night soon.”  
He made his way to his chambers, carrying Tora as though she was a precious, fragile bundle. Setting her down inside, he stepped through to prepare a bath for her. She quickly shed her dirty clothes, wrapping a large towel around herself as she followed him. Before long, she was settled in the hot water, surrounded by masses of fragrant bubbles.  
Strong but gentle hands washed her hair, and she opened her eyes to smile at Thranduil as he took care of her.  
“How did I ever get so lucky?” she murmered dreamily.  
“You are not the lucky one,” he told her. “It is I who is lucky. I get to have you in my life.”  
She snorted, leaning back against the smooth rocks of the pool. “That could be up for debate,” she said, closing her eyes again. “I thought you were going to go mad earlier.”  
“I almost did,” he said dryly. “I came through to check how you were, and couldn’t find you here, or in your own room. I knew where you were.”  
She grinned.  
“Not funny,” he chided her gently. “Speaking of your room...” He trailed off, and she opened her eyes again.   
“What about it?”  
He frowned. “I do not wish you to have it,” he said.  
“Oh,” she said quietly, unsure of where he would put her.  
“I want you here, in my chambers,” he said softly, and her eyes flew to his.  
“Here?”  
“Of course,” he said, as though she was crazy. “Why not? What is the point of you having a different room? I want to curl up with you every night, fall asleep with you, wake up with you, make love to you...lovers share sleeping space, in case you did not know.”  
She laughed. “I just didn’t think you wanted that,” she murmered, gazing up at him as he loomed over her from behind.  
“We have not spent a night apart since we became lovers,” he said. “It seems to be the natural order of things for you to share my bed on a more permanent basis.”  
He leaned down, giving her an erotic upside-down kiss, and she moaned in pleasure.  
“So?”  
“You really have to ask?” she laughed.   
He leaned back up with a satisfied smile, rinsing her hair. “I shall see to it tomorrow that your things are moved here,” he said. “This is where you belong, my love.”  
“This gives a whole new meaning to personal aide,” she said, turning to face him and taking the towel he handed to her.   
He laughed as she wrapped it around herself, helping her to step out of the water. She went through to the bedroom and dried herself off, leaving him to have a quick bath. By the time he had finished, she was seated in the middle of the huge bed, inspecting her knees.  
“I will put something on that,” he said, appearing at her side dressed in a soft grey silky robe. “I told you that you were overdoing things.”  
She grunted, and watched him gently apply a clear lotion to her knees. The skin was torn and had been bleeding a little from where she had spent such a long time crawling around the uneven floor.  
“How about I give your back a massage?” he suggested.  
She hesitated for a split second, but enough for him to notice. “That sounds like something I would enjoy,” she said with a smile.  
“Turn over and lie on your front,” he told her.  
Apprehension filled her as she complied, and he swept her hair to one side. She drew in a deep breath, aware that the scars on her lower back were still visible.  
“Do not think about it,” he said softly, pouring a scented oil into the hollow of her back. “Just relax.”  
The towel was down around her hips, and she was content to leave it there, closing her eyes as his warm hands swept across aching muscles, following the natural curves of her back. He worked his way from her shoulders down to her hips, strong, kneading movements that eased the burning aches and pains. Working his way along one arm at a time, he worked the tension out of the muscles there, right down to her fingers.   
“I could get used to this,” she murmered, half asleep. “It’s not every day a King gives you a massage.”  
He smiled. “It is my pleasure, angel,” he told her. “And you deserve to be pampered. You have put a lot of work in today, more than the people who were supposed to be working down there.” The ends of his long hair tickled her flesh as he moved.  
“They just need motivation,” she mumbled. She stiffened slightly as he moved to the bottom of the bed, lifting one foot and massaging up the back of her calf. Forcing herself to relax, she concentrated hard on ignoring the tension rising in her stomach.  
The warmth of his large hands soothed her, and she found herself drifting weightlessly on a cloud of bliss as he worked up to the back of her knee.  
He moved higher, under the edge of the towel, and she jerked in fear.  
“No,” she gasped, pulling away from him and turning over, clutching the towel higher. Terrified eyes met his confused ones.  
“What’s wrong?” he asked in concern.  
“Nothing, I’m fine. I feel alright now,” she said, sitting up.   
He lifted a hand and caressed the side of her face. “You are not,” he said quietly. “Talk to me.”  
Unshed tears sparkled in her eyes as she looked at him. “Leave it,” she whispered. “Please, just let it go.”  
His teeth clenched, but he stayed silent, watching her as she took a deep breath.  
“Tora,” he said.   
She shook her head, looking away from him and pulling her knees up to her chest in a defensive position.  
He waited.  
“There are scars you haven’t seen,” she whispered eventually.  
“I know,” he said softly. “And I think it is time you showed me them.”  
“No.”  
“I will work on the ones on your lower back the day after tomorrow, once you have rested from your work today,” he told her. “But you must show me the others.”  
Tear-filled eyes met his. “You promised I could do this in my own time,” she said, a catch to her voice.   
“Yes, and you will push that time further and further away,” he told her. “I know how you think, my love. You are avoiding this, and it is causing you pain.”  
She lowered her head.  
He tipped her chin back up with the pad of one finger. “Do you love me?” he asked her.  
“Of course I do,” she gasped. “With all my heart and soul.”  
“Then trust in me. Show me.” He watched the battle in her blue eyes as she fought with herself. “Do not hide anything from me.”  
She sighed deeply, rolling back over onto her stomach. Resting her head on her arms crossed over the pillow, she closed her eyes and waited in dread.  
Slowly, the towel lifted from her buttocks, and she sunk her teeth into her lower lip as silent tears started to fall.  
Nobody moved, nothing was said.  
The same scars that had covered her back stretched across her thighs, deep wounds that spoke of nothing but hatred, abuse, and neglect. The angry red marks crossed over both thighs, stopping just above her knees.  
She took a shuddering breath, turning her face into the pillow, shame filling her.  
Thranduil leaned down and placed soft kisses along each scar, his gentle mouth travelling along each one. Moving unhurriedly, he took his time in leisurely kissing each and every one, before lifting himself over her and crushing her back against him. “Do not cry, my love,” he whispered in her ear. “We will fix this as well.” He kissed the flesh under her ear, and turned her in his arms to face him, his blue eyes searching hers.  
Tears rolled down her cheeks, dampening her hair. He wiped them away with his thumbs, and kissed her mouth tenderly.  
“No more secrets,” he whispered. “No more hiding things.”  
“They’re horrible, they’re ugly,” she cried.  
“But you are not,” he told her. “And they can be healed. Trust me angel, I will heal them for you.”  
“You should not have to do that,” she whispered brokenly. “You should have someone perfect to share your bed with.”  
He frowned. “You do not just share my bed,” he said. “You share my life. My soul. My heartbeat. Not just my bed. Do not ever think that. And you are perfect.”  
She gazed at him in wonder, the occasional tear still escaping. He gently kissed them away, pulling her tight against his warm chest.  
“I can still feel the pain,” she whispered after a long time.  
His hands wandered slowly up and down her back.  
“He used to tie me to the door handle of his throne room and whip me, for no reason,” she said. “Just because I was a girl and not a boy.”  
His chest expanded against her as he took a deep breath, fighting the anger that rose up in him.  
“My mother would hear me screaming...and she would laugh.” Her voice sounded different, and he knew she was far back in time, re-living the horror. “The more he whipped me, the more I screamed. The more I screamed, the more he did it.”  
He rested his head on hers.  
“I can still feel blood running down my back, down my legs,” she whispered.  
“It is over now, my love,” he said softly. “No-one will ever put you through that again. I said before, they deserved everything that happened to them, and a lot more. I am glad they are dead, because I would kill them myself if they were not.”  
She snuggled tighter against him, taking a few shuddering breaths.  
“You are safe now,” he promised.  
*****  
The following day, Tora was quieter than usual over breakfast. Thranduil noticed, but didn’t comment. The conversation rolled between them as Bard enjoyed his final meal with them before setting off.  
“So, I hear you caused more trouble down in the kitchens,” their guest grinned as he took a drink of tea.  
She smiled. “I was only doing what needed to be done,” she said.  
He laughed. “I do not know of any other King who would get down on his hands and knees to replace floor boards,” he said. “I believe you should be honoured, m’lady.”  
“I am, very much so,” she acknowledged, with a smile at Thranduil. “Although I should point out – he insisted. I had an ultimatum...have him work with me, or abandon what I had started.”  
Bard chuckled. “You two fit together so well,” he observed. “I predict a lively future ahead.”  
Thranduil smiled, his gaze catching Tora’s. “I agree,” he murmered.  
“Well,” the man announced, setting his mug down. “I guess I should start my journey. I must say it has been a pleasure spending time with you both.” A warm smile accompanied his words.  
Thranduil rose from his chair. “And it has been a pleasure to have you here,” he said. “You are welcome any time.”  
“Thankyou,” Bard replied as he stood. “M’lady Tora, it has been wonderful to make your acquaintance.” He kissed the back of her hand.  
“Likewise,” she said. “May you have a safe journey back to Lake Town.”  
“I shall be back shortly,” Thranduil told her, dropping a kiss on her mouth as he passed. She smiled after him, watching the two men leave the dining hall.  
She finished her scrambled eggs, then pushed her plate aside, tiredness and pain washing over her.


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 

Thranduil returned to the dining hall after seeing Bard off with his companions, to find it empty. Heaving a sigh, he turned back and headed down to the kitchens, expecting to find Tora slaving away down there, albeit against his wishes. Thinking to himself that it was like having to try and cage a wild animal, he stepped into a scene of complete chaos.  
“Is Tora not here?” he questioned, as Rangol passed carrying an armful of fittings.  
“No my Lord, I have not seen her this day,” the servant replied. “I did not think she would come down after all the work she did yesterday.”  
Thranduil grunted. “I see what happens when she is not around,” he muttered, acknowledging to himself that she had indeed been right – the work was falling behind without her present to push the workers. “If you see her, let her know I am looking for her.”  
“Of course, my Lord,” Rangol said with a bow of respect.  
He went back up the steps, wondering where she was, and decided to check his chambers.  
Empty.  
Wondering if she was taking care of moving her things to his rooms herself, he checked her room.  
Also empty.  
Wondering where she had disappeared to, he crossed the hallways and bumped into his son, coming out of the reading room.  
“Have you seen Tora?” he asked, a deep frown arching over his blue eyes.  
“You cannot keep track of her, can you?” Legolas laughed. “I saw her not long ago, going to the healing rooms.”  
His frown deepened, and he swept away from his son, leaving him more than a little bewildered.   
The healing rooms were on a higher level, but it took him no time in reaching them. Soft music met his ears, along with the faint scent of lavender as he entered the relaxing area.  
Bryden looked up as he saw his King striding towards him. “Ah, my Lord,” he greeted him. “M’lady Tora is resting out on the balcony.” He pointed to a secluded area, set away from the other rooms.  
Concerned, Thranduil crossed the polished floor and went out onto the sun-soaked balcony. “Tora? My love?” he said, kneeling before her.  
Her eyes opened, and she smiled faintly. “I thought you were occupied,” she said.  
He took her hand in his. “What is wrong?”  
“I just needed some rest, some peace and quiet,” she told him.  
He studied her. Her face was chalk white, with dark purple shadows under her tired eyes. “You are bleeding,” he said.  
She pursed her mouth, nodding. “Yes.”  
He lifted himself to sit on the bench beside her. “Why did you not say anything?” he asked. “You should take as much rest as you can when you are like this.”  
“I’ll be alright,” she said, turning exhausted eyes to him. “My cycles can get really bad sometimes.” She winced slightly at the cramp which spread across her lower abdomen.  
He chewed his bottom lip. This was her first period since their union. Shaking his head, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her across his legs, tucking her head against his shoulder. “What is troubling you?” he asked.  
She pulled back and stared at him with a frown. “How did you get to be so astute?” she asked.  
He smiled. “I can read your eyes.”  
She hesitated. “I do not wish to anger you,” she said.  
“You will not,” he promised. “Speak to me.”  
“I do not like to...be intimate when I am like this,” she said quietly and hesitantly.  
His eyes widened in shock. “I would not expect you to,” he gasped. “Why would you think that? This is a time for your body to rest, my love. Why would I be angry at that?”  
She shrugged. “Some men don’t like it,” she said.  
Impatience flitted across his eyes. “You told me you had never been with an elf,” he said. “But you were not a virgin. I assume you had sex with human males?”  
“Two,” she corrected him, a slight indignant tone in her voice. “Just the two.”  
“That tells me everything I need to know,” he muttered, pulling her back to lean on his shoulder. “Human males are selfish in bed, they care only about their own needs. They do not take the time to cherish and worship their mate the way elves do.”  
“I certainly wasn’t expecting the attention you gave me,” she murmered, closing her eyes and relaxing into him.   
His warm hand gently rubbed her back. “That was nothing, angel. There is so much more...so much more.”  
She smiled. “I shall look forward to learning,” she said.  
“You are falling asleep,” he said, his ears alert to the subtle change in her voice. Signalling Bryden with a lift of his chin, he told him to bring a warm blanket over. The healer immediately went and retrieved one, and Thranduil draped it around her. “Sleep, my love,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head.  
*****  
The soft blanket of darkness surrounded Tora as she lay with her head on the pillows. A warm breeze blew in through the open window, bringing along with it the scents of flowers and the woods. A peaceful quiet filled the room, with the occasional distant sound of nocturnal animals going about their business far below.  
Beside her, Thranduil was restless.  
He tossed and turned, fidgeted, and changed position several times.  
She propped herself up on one elbow, gazing down at the smooth lines of his back, his long hair sweeping down the curve of his spine. “What’s wrong, baby?” she whispered.  
He sighed softly. “I cannot settle,” he replied, his voice low.   
“Any particular reason?”  
“No, I do not think so. I just cannot get comfortable,” he answered.  
Silence.  
Having slid over to the far side of the bed to give him space as she was unable to initiate any intimacy between them and hadn’t wanted to torment him, she inched closer to him.  
“Maybe I can help,” she said softly.  
“Try and sleep, my love,” he said. “You need rest.”  
“As do you,” she responded, sliding under the warmth of the blanket. The soft cover settled around her as her hand trailed down his side, past his hip, and down his thigh.  
“Tora?” His soft question was muffled through the blankets.  
She didn’t answer, instead shifting her weight so she was lying over his legs. Using both hands, she lightly ran her fingertips up both thighs, just a gentle, teasing touch and no more. She ran them back up over his hips, gently rubbing in circles on his stomach. The muscles quivered and tensed.  
She smiled.  
Her hands drifted back down, exerting a little pressure as she squeezed the taut muscles of his legs.  
“Tora,” he murmered above her.  
She ignored him, slowly sliding both hands inwards so she held his semi-hard erection between her palms.  
A gasp sounded through the blankets.  
She slowly swept her thumb across his tip, smiling in satisfaction as she felt the wetness already leaking from him. He hardened in her hands, and moved his legs restlessly. She shifted her weight, allowing him to spread his thighs wide apart, and she settled between them. Resting her head against his left thigh, she worked both hands up and down his length, slow, leisurely movements that did nothing to relax him.  
His body was tense under her touch, quivering, trembling.  
She removed her left hand and slowly rubbed the inside of his right thigh, her right hand still moving up and down on him. Edging slowly closer, she flicked her tongue out and across his tip.  
His breath left him in a sharp hiss.  
She flicked her tongue across him again, tasting the salty fluid, then repeated it several times. His hips rolled beneath her. Retracting his foreskin, she ran her tongue around the edge, before licking across the head.  
Muttered curses reached her ears, making her grin.  
Closing her eyes, she closed her lips around the tip of his shaft, her tongue circling his head. The thighs on either sides of her tensed and flexed. A muffled shout sounded as she opened her mouth and took him deep, until he hit the back of her throat. She slid back until just her lips touched the tip, swiping her tongue across it and feeling it jerk in response. Her grip on his base tightened, and her strokes gathered a little speed. She took him deep in her mouth again, a hum of pleasure vibrating along the length of him.  
One of his hands found its way under the blankets, twisting into her hair and holding firm. His hips lifted slightly, thrusting further into the warmth of her mouth.  
More muttered curses.  
She moved faster, taking him back as far as she could, drawing back until he was almost free, then taking him deep again. His legs crushed against her sides as he squirmed, and his other hand slid down to tangle in her hair.  
He pumped his hips up off the bed, holding her head still, his breathing broken and uneven. She moved her left hand to slide under his sac, taking the soft weight and squeezing lightly.  
An indistinguishable torrent of curses floated over her as she trailed her nails over his soft skin, her right hand maintaining rhythm. His thrusts became faster, his swearing louder, his trembling more vibrant.  
“Oh fuck...Tora, I’m going to come,” he panted. “Fuck...I’m coming, I’m coming!” He broke off with a low growl that rumbled from his abdomen as he lost control and exploded down her throat, his growl rising in pitch as he jerked and thrashed.   
She slowed her hand, licking him until he had finished, before sighing and leaning her head against his inner thigh. Gentle hands caressed her cheeks and hair, the sound of his panting filtering through the blankets.  
Pressing soft kisses up the inside of his thigh, she slowly lifted herself from her curled position, trailing her mouth up his stomach and over his chest. Dazed blue eyes met hers as he lifted her level with him.  
“Maybe now you will sleep,” she smiled.  
He lifted his head and kissed her passionately. “You are the most amazing thing to happen to me,” he whispered. “I love you so much.”  
“I love you so much more,” she told him. “Try to relax.”  
Curling onto her side, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, tucking his head against her shoulder. He was asleep within minutes.  
She smiled in contentment, and closed her eyes.  
*****  
Tora jumped a little as a warm hand gently slid down her back, coming to rest on the swell of her buttocks. Turning to see Thranduil behind her, she smiled.  
“Thankyou for last night,” he murmered, pressing a soft kiss to her mouth. “I had a wonderful sleep.”  
“Good,” she said. “You needed it. You’ve been spending so much time looking after me recently.” She gathered a pile of documents, turning and heading for the table.  
“What are you up to now?” he asked, following her.  
“Going over the finances for the treasury for the last year,” she replied. “I meant to start going through them before now, but with Bard arriving, and the kitchen...” She trailed off, shaking her head.  
“Do not overwork yourself,” he said in concern.   
“I’m not,” she said. “After what happened with the barrels of wine, I started thinking that maybe I should be looking into other areas.”  
He frowned, lowering himself into the seat beside her. “Are you always this suspicious?” he asked.  
“Yes,” she said, flashing him a grin. “I’ve spent too much time away from my own kind, and seen how others treat one another. And it’s not just elves who live and work here.”  
He hmm’d. “I understand,” he said. “But I am serious Tora – do not stress yourself. Which reminds me...I went down to the kitchens to look for you yesterday, before I found out you were in the healing rooms.”  
She frowned. “I wasn’t there,” she said.  
He drew her an exasperated look. “I know that,” he said. “The standard of work drops when you are not there.”  
She set the paperwork down, folding her arms. “Does that mean I can oversee the work?” she asked hopefully.  
“No,” he said.  
She tutted in disgust and picked the paper up again. “Shit-head,” she muttered.  
“My love, I have exceptional hearing,” he reminded her.  
“Good,” she retorted. Throwing the documents back down again, she twisted in her seat to face him. “So what do you propose?”  
He sighed. “I shall have to place either Legolas or my captain down there until the work is completed,” he said. “Neither of whom I can particularly afford to have there, but I do not see any other option.”  
She pulled a face.  
“No, Tora. I am not discussing this,” he said, standing up. “I do not want my woman down in a renovating area, being hurt, getting dirty, and working herself to the bone. Do I make myself clear?”  
“Uh-oh, he is on a rant,” Legolas quipped, entering the study. “Better watch out, Tora.”  
“He’s stubborn and pig-headed,” she grumbled, turning back to her papers.  
“I shall choose to pretend I did not hear that,” Thranduil said in a dry tone.  
“Pretend all you want, I said it,” she retorted.  
Legolas stifled a laugh as his father glared at him.  
“Was there something you required, my son?” he questioned, his manner making Tora want to laugh.  
“Ah..only to ask if there was anything you wished for me to do, as I have some free time on my hands,” Legolas answered. “I was going to go out onto the training grounds, but the rain is a little too heavy just now.”  
“Good timing,” Thranduil said, folding his arms. “Go down to the kitchens and keep those useless oafs working. The only one who appears to be putting in any effort is Rangol; the others are slacking off.”  
Legolas nodded. “Are you not coming, Tora?” A look of mischief flashed across his eyes, and he shot out of the door at the glare his father threw at him.  
“I do not know who is harder to control, you or him,” he muttered.  
Tora grinned. “Some beings cannot be controlled,” she mused. “I think I shall probably be in here for most of the day...unless you need me somewhere else?” Questioning eyes lifted to his.  
“No,” he said, after a short silence. “I actually have some things I should be tending to.” He hesitated. “I could do them in here...with you?”  
She sat back, watching him for a moment or two, before rising to her feet and wrapping her arms around his waist. “Why are you – the King, asking my permission to do something?”  
“Because I do not wish to disturb you, or crowd you,” he replied, brushing her hair over her left shoulder. “But I enjoy spending time with you, even if we do not speak. I like the feeling of you being near me.”  
She smiled, the tenderness in his words creating a warm feeling in her stomach. “And I love being with you,” she said. “I would love for you to bring your work in here. We could have lunch together.”  
“I shall arrange for lunch to be brought to us,” he said, lowering his head and touching his lips to hers in the softest whisper of a kiss.   
She moaned, opening her mouth and deepening the kiss. Her arms tightened around him as his hands settled on her lower back, crushing her against him.   
“I can see we will achieve much,” he laughed, pulling back.  
“Tease,” she smirked, going back to the table. “Go get your work. I shall await your return.”  
He left the study, a wide grin on his face as he closed the door behind him.  
Life was good.


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 

The sound of an owl hooting as it flew past the open window registered somewhere in the back of Tora’s mind. She frowned, scoring through columns of figures and re-writing them. The candle on the table before her had burned right down, the quivering flame almost ready to die out.  
A soft noise sounded to her left, but she didn’t turn, too absorbed in what she was doing.  
Warm hands glided over her shoulders, rubbing them in a gentle massage.  
“You should have been in bed a long time ago, my love,” Thranduil’s deep voice said. “It is late, and you are still hunched over this.”  
“Hmm,” she murmered, her hand moving swiftly through her numbers.  
“Come to bed, angel,” he said.  
“In a minute, babe,” she replied, distracted.  
He sighed softly, going around the table and lowering himself onto the seat across from her. “I can wait.”  
She smiled, still not lifting her head. “I’m almost done here.” Her words were clear, but her tone suggested she was elsewhere.  
He leaned his elbow on the table, resting his chin on his hand, and glanced around the darkened study. She hadn’t moved the entire day, save to sit beside him to eat lunch and share a few passionate kisses. He had completed his workload, and eventually left her in peace to finish hers.  
That was hours ago, while it was still daylight.  
“Baby,” she murmered, drawing his attention back to her. She lifted her head and stared at him. “When was the last time you checked the stored revenue from the trades with Lake Town?”  
He frowned. “I cannot remember,” he said. “My treasurer deals with that.”  
“I think you might be wise to look into it come the morning,” she suggested. “There are so many mistakes in the calculations here, and I found a pattern.”  
“Please explain,” he said, moving to change seats so he was next to her.  
“Look at this,” she said, pointing to a column of numbers. “The total amount was wrong, two of the numbers reversed. The same happens every fourth intake.”  
Light blue eyes lifted to hers, a pained look in the depths, clear even in the flickering light of the dying candle. “Tell me this is wrong,” he said.  
She shrugged. “I don’t know my love, honestly, I do not know. It will need to be checked to verify whether this is a genuine mistake...or mistakes,” she replied. “But my instinct tells me this is a distinct pattern. It’s deliberate. I’m so sorry.”  
He lowered his head, closing his eyes. “How much of this is going on?” he said quietly, to nobody in particular. “How do I know who I can trust?”  
Her heart ached for him, and she rubbed her hand down his arm. “Come on, leave it for tonight,” she said. “Let’s go to bed. Get some sleep.”  
A deep sigh left him as he stood, winding his arm around her and draping his cloak over her shoulder. They walked in silence along the passages towards their room.  
Tora freshened up and changed into a silky nightdress, curling against his back once she climbed into bed. Pressing a tender kiss to his bare skin, she sighed. “I’m sorry, my love,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have said anything until tomorrow.”  
A moment of silence passed before he replied. “I have to know these things, angel, do not blame yourself,” he said. He lifted his hand and placed it on top of hers, which rested across his stomach.  
She nuzzled against him, touching little butterfly kisses onto his warm flesh. “I should have kept it to myself for tonight. Now you won’t rest.”  
He sighed again and rolled over onto his back, curling his arm under her shoulders and pulling her against him. She rested her head against his chest as he started at the high ceiling, intricately carved into the stone.  
Sleep didn’t come easily to either of them.  
*****  
Thranduil slammed the door so hard, the entire hall seemed to vibrate.  
Tora jumped, glancing at Legolas, who stood with his arms crossed, a grim look on his face.  
“I will not stand for this!” his father snarled, fury radiating from him in waves. “I will find who is behind this, and I will take their heads off!”  
“Calm down, father,” Legolas said soothingly. “You have only checked the last few intakes.”  
“I know what I see,” he snapped, striding past him. His long tunic swirled around his legs as he moved with angry steps. “How long this has been going on, I do not know. But I _will _know, I _will _find out. And they _will _feel my wrath, that is my oath!”______  
A wine goblet crashed down onto the table with force.  
Tora jumped again.  
He whirled round to face her, his anger dropping slightly at the look in her wide blue eyes. He reached over and took her hand, squeezing tightly. “Do not be afraid, angel,” he said. “My anger is not directed towards you.”  
“I know,” she replied. “But Legolas is right – you need to calm down. I will work through all the accounts, with you if need be, and track where it all began. I promise, my love, I will fix this for you.”  
Legolas observed the pair, amazed at the bond which practically hummed with the strength flowing between them. They complimented each other in every way. One’s weakness was the other’s strength, one’s negativity was the other’s positivity. Two sides of a coin.  
“I have placed one of the captains down in the kitchens for the time being,” he said. “That frees me to help with this task.”  
Tora smiled her gratitude. “Thankyou,” she said. “I think I will need all the help I can get in trying to unravel this mess. For all I know, it could go back months, years maybe.”  
“Or longer,” Legolas said. “There is no way of knowing until we pull every record and tear everything apart.”  
“That is not all that will be torn apart,” Thranduil said in a low growl. “I will not have thieves in the palace, in trusted positions.”  
She moved closer to him, wrapping an arm along his shoulders as he had sunk down onto a chair, and kissed the top of his head. “May I make a suggestion?”  
He lifted his light blue eyes to hers. “Anything, my love,” he replied.  
“You’ve been in that room for over three hours, and could really do with a break, some fresh air. Take me out for a walk or something, for a short rest.” She watched him intently.  
Long lashes fluttered down as he blinked, and a slow smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I think that is a good idea,” he said.  
Legolas almost fell over.  
“What is the matter with you?” Thranduil demanded, irritated.  
“Nothing,” his son replied with a grin. “I have never seen you like this...I like it.”  
“Like what?” The question came out with a little less bite.  
Legolas shrugged, his gaze darting back and forth between them. “Softer. Compassionate. Responsive.”  
Thranduil glared at him.  
“I think it best that I take my leave,” his son laughed, exiting the room at speed.  
Tora bit back a grin, hearing his laughter echo down the corridor as he retreated. She looked back at Thranduil, to find him studying her.  
“Nothing,” he said in response to her questioning frown. “Come. I shall take you out as you suggested. Maybe being out in the fresh air away from all this will clear my head a little.”  
They walked down towards the stables, where Thranduil’s massive black horse stood looking out over the lower half of the door. He snorted in welcome as his master approached him.  
“Do you ride?” he asked.  
“I can, but I’m not competent,” she replied, lifting a hand to stroke the huge animal. The horse nuzzled her shoulder, making soft noises in her ear.  
She glanced up at Thranduil, to find him watching her intently.  
“You shall ride with me,” he decided, opening the stable door. The horse obligingly passed through, stopping beside them.  
She glanced up, dubious of her ability to mount the animal who towered over her. Thranduil turned her back to him, lifting her in a single swift movement and placing her astride. She caught a smug grin as he swung himself up behind her. His left arm tightened around her stomach, pulling her back firmly to sit cradled between his open thighs.  
A sweet ache blossomed to life deep within her.  
The horse slowly walked after a gentle tug on his reins, and she relaxed against the solid body behind her.  
They passed through the courtyard and through the gates, the trees looming before them.  
“It is a beautiful day to be out,” he commented, his lush voice so close to her ear sending shock waves through her body.  
“Hmm,” she hummed in agreement. “I think being outside for a while will benefit you. You haven’t been out in a long time.”  
“I have been otherwise occupied,” he replied, and she picked up on his undertones. “But blissfully so, I must say.”  
“So you enjoyed replacing the floor in the kitchens?” she joked.  
“Yes,” he said.  
She turned her head to look up at him, surprise on her face.  
“I enjoyed doing it with you at my side,” he explained with a nonchalant shrug. “Otherwise I would not have partaken in such a task.”  
“I think you were correct in your previous observations,” she commented. “You are going mad.”  
He laughed, a deep rumble vibrating through his chest and into her back. “It is strange how the enjoyment of the chore depends on those present,” he said.  
The horse continued to stroll leisurely through the greenery.  
“I like the physical side of doing things like that,” she said dreamily, her body completely relaxed against the warm strength of his. “I suppose it’s something I’ve always done without question, so I just jump into things and give my best.”  
He didn’t answer, making her lift her head in question.  
Heavy eyebrows frowned down at her.  
“What?” she asked, curious.  
“You have not lived the kind of life you were entitled to,” he said. “You should have been waited on hand and foot, had everything you wished for at your fingertips. Instead you have been travelling with a cantankerous, tetchy wizard amongst the greed of the dwarves and hobbits, and working your fingers to the bone.”  
The horse stopped with a gentle tug on the reins.  
“It is how I chose to live my life,” she said, still gazing into his eyes. “And it is that way of life which made me the person I am. I wouldn’t change any of it.”  
“I want you to be pampered, spoiled, taken care of, I want you to have the best of everything,” he said.  
“As long as I am with you, then I have all that,” she said with a smile. “And I do not mean in the materialistic sense. I mean in the emotional sense.”  
He snorted softly. “Yet you still insist on working.”  
She laughed, shaking her head as she leaned back against him with a soft sigh. “Yes. It is part of me, who I am,” she said. “Love me, love my faults.”  
He nuzzled her neck, soft wet kisses pressing against her skin. “I do love you,” he whispered. “I love everything about you. Your fire, your passion, your temper, your stubbornness, your loyalty, your dedication...your sweet body, made especially to fit mine...” He trailed off in a sultry whisper, and her insides melted.  
“You know how to get into a girl’s underwear,” she moaned in pleasure.  
He laughed, straightening behind her and resting his chin on her shoulder. “I love you,” he said softly, his tone serious.  
“I love you too,” she replied, lifting her hand to caress his cheek. “More than I could ever tell you. More than I ever thought possible to love someone. And it scares the hell out of me sometimes.”  
“Just let go and flow with the feeling,” he murmered. “Being in love is the best feeling in the world. Nothing can compare to it, in any shape or form.”  
“Wise words,” she agreed.  
He shifted behind her, sliding down from the horse’s back. “Let us walk for a while,” he suggested, holding his arms up to help her dismount.  
She placed her hands on his shoulders, sliding with ease to stand on the grass before him. He didn’t release her straight away, instead he tucked her hair behind her ear and kissed her softly.  
Blinking to clear her head, she curled her fingers around his as he led her along one of the many footpaths through the forest. They walked in a comfortable silence, absorbing the peace and tranquillity around them in the lush part of the woods.  
Before long, they came upon a small waterfall, the clear, sparkling water cascading over the rocks into a shimmering pool below.  
“This is beautiful,” she said, lowering herself to sit on one of the rocks. “I didn’t even know this was here, so close to the palace.”  
He smiled. “Not many are aware of its existence,” he replied. “It is one of the few areas unspoiled by the darkness that festers over these lands.”  
“I love it,” she murmered, trailing one hand in the cool water. “This is perfect.”  
Butterflies flitted above the surface of the water, a rainbow of colour and agility in their flight.  
Thranduil studied her unobtrusively as she watched them, an appreciative smile forming on her lips as she observed the natural wonder before her. Her eyes were sparkling, her cheeks flushed a light pink.  
He dropped to sit on his knees before her, placing his hands on the rock on either side of her. “Tora,” he said.  
She turned from the beauty of the waterfall and looked at him.  
“Marry me,” he said softly.  
Her heart stopped.  
The colour drained from her face.  
She forgot how to breathe.  
Time stopped.  
He waited, his light blue eyes pleading with her.  
She opened her mouth, searching for the ability to speak, drawing a deep gasp of air into her lungs. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I can’t.”  
The world seemed to implode around him as she leapt to her feet, forcing past his arms and running full pelt back through the trees.  
He couldn’t move. He just sat there on the grass, stunned.


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

 

Life at the palace was hell on earth.  
Thanduil was in a foul mood, and everyone ran for cover whenever he made his presence known. Even Legolas retreated to a safe distance and stayed clear. The servants feared for their lives whenever they had to attend, and not one of them dared look him in the eye.  
Tora had not been seen for three days.  
She had taken the treasury records through to the room she had been allocated on her arrival, and worked on them in silence. Aria had brought food to her, concerned but not pushing when it was plain her friend was too distraught to speak about whatever was troubling her.  
She finally completed the workload she had taken, highlighting a definite pattern that had been going on for years. Knowing that Thranduil had everything he needed to know to pinpoint the culprit, she returned the heavy records under the cover of darkness.  
Nobody intercepted her.  
Nobody was looking for her.  
She dropped by the kitchens which were close to completion, having a look around at the progress that had been made. Placing one of the captains down to oversee proceedings had been a good move, as the workspace looked much better and was almost ready to be used again.  
She wandered along the hallways, stopping outside the door to Thranduil’s chambers. Sadness washed over her. She loved him with everything she had, but she couldn’t give him what he needed.  
Moving on, she returned to her own room, tugging on her knee high boots. She wiggled her toes, unfamiliar with the feel of them as she had chosen to go barefoot in the palace since her arrival. Her gaze lifted, and she glanced around the room. Her eyes settled on the bed, where she and Thranduil had first made love with each other.  
Breathing deeply, she deliberately looked away, closing off that part of her mind. He had shown her the stars, made her touch them, taught her things about her own body that she hadn’t known. He had awakened an insatiable desire within her, a desperation to mate with him at every opportunity. The force of passion between them had knocked her completely off-kilter, as no-one had ever had such an effect on her. A single arrogant look could have her insides clenching in desperate need for him, an unbearable hunger that only he could satisfy.  
She gathered her thoughts together, forcing her mind to clear and focus on the present. Although she was about to tear her heart into pieces, she knew within herself that her presence would only bring sadness and ill-feeling, and he deserved much more than that.  
She left the room, pulling the door closed quietly behind her, her hand pausing on the handle.  
Predatory eyes watched her in the darkness.  
She walked the length of the passageway, not needing light to guide her as she knew the hallways well enough. The levels dropped as she descended each flight of steps, the air becoming cooler. The darkness enclosed around her like a comforting blanket as she moved through the palace.  
The eyes followed her.  
Crossing the main hallway, she stopped at the heavy door, her head lowering briefly. Memories crashed over her in waves, threatening to destroy her. Her body trembled as she struggled to regain control, dragging on every ounce of the inner strength that seemed to be asleep within her.  
She pulled the door open, screaming in fright as it slammed closed again. Spinning round, her back flattened against the wood as she found herself staring into Thranduil’s cold, angry blue eyes.  
“Going somewhere?” he remarked, his tone like ice.  
She swallowed. “Yes,” she replied. “I’m going back to Gandalf.”  
His hand remained over her shoulder, holding the door closed. “I do not think so,” he said.  
“I don’t belong here,” she said, dropping her gaze.  
He grasped her chin in a strong grip, forcing her head back up. “Do not think you can walk out of here,” he warned her.  
She shook herself free. “You do not own me,” she retaliated.  
He smirked ruthlessly. “Oh yes I do.”  
Shaking her head, she looked away again.  
“I own your body. I own your soul. I own your secrets.” His cold, harsh words shocked her to the core.  
Her eyes burned with unshed tears. “No, you do not. I have free will. You cannot take that from me.”  
He leaned down, so close, she could feel his warm breath. “I own every part of you, whether you like it or not,” he said. “And I decide if you stay or leave.”  
“So you would keep me here against my will, through supposed ownership?” she demanded.  
“As opposed to keeping you here through love, then so be it,” he said. Hatred burned in the depths of his eyes.  
“I do not wish to remain here,” she told him, defiance in her tone.  
“I do not care what you wish for,” he replied. “Perhaps I am indeed the heartless ruler you were led to believe.”  
A moment passed before she shoved both hands against his chest, putting some space between them. “I know you better than that,” she ground out. “The only way you can keep me here against my will is to imprison me. So do it, if you feel you must, because that’s the only choice you have.”  
Her words seemed to have an impact on him, as his eyes changed, and he backed away from her. Shaking his head slowly, he stared at her with a look of anguish in his eyes. “What have I done to turn you against me?” he asked, his voice a little above a whisper. “Why do you hate me so much?”  
She shook her head, swallowing as she battled to keep herself together. “Nothing. I don’t hate you.”  
“Yet you tear my heart from me,” he whispered. He seemed to be in a shocked trance, trying to fathom out what had gone wrong and facing the fact that he could not fix it.  
A tear rolled down her cheek. “I do nothing, except save you from a future of heartache and despair,” she said, a catch to her voice. “A future where you will hate me, hate what we had between us.”  
His heart pounded furiously out of rhythm.  
“I have to leave,” she said simply, lifting her eyes to his.  
The heartbreak she saw there almost brought her to her knees.  
He turned away from her, and she saw him take a deep, steadying breath. “Give me a good enough reason, and I will let you go,” he said quietly. His words washed over her like a flood of ice cold water.  
Her knees gave way and she sank to the floor, her back against the door, silent tears streaming down both cheeks. “I cannot marry you,” she whispered.  
He whirled back round, anger in his eyes once more. “Give me a reason!” he demanded.  
She shook her head, wiping her face with her hands. “I’m not enough.”  
Her words were so quiet, even his sharp hearing had difficulty picking up what she had said.  
He swiftly crossed over to her, dragging her up and pinning her against the door.  
“Do I not take care of your every need?” he demanded angrily.  
“Yes,” she cried.  
“Do I not bend to your every whim, let you run free where others would not have that freedom?”  
“Yes!”  
“Do I not declare my love for you a thousand times a day?” His anger was growing.  
“Yes!”  
“Do I not bring your body so much pleasure that others never could? Do you not explode in my arms with the slightest touch, the softest kiss?”  
“Yes!” she sobbed.  
“Then what is the problem?!” he shouted at her.  
“I am not good enough!” she screamed back at him.  
He released his hold on her and stepped back, dumbstruck.  
She leaned forwards, resting her hands on her thighs as she tried to compose herself, to regulate her breathing and cease her tears which flowed hard and fast.  
He stared at her, lost for words, unable to comprehend what she was telling him. How did she ever think she wasn’t good enough? Good enough for what?  
“Tora, what are you trying to say?” he asked, the anger absent from his question. “Not good enough for what?”  
“I’m not good enough to marry you,” she choked out, her shoulders shaking with her sobs.  
He moved back towards her, forcing her to stand back upright and face him. “I do not understand,” he said, his eyes searching hers.  
She tried to pull away from him, but he tightened his hold on her. Although not hurting her, his hold was restrictive. Her shoulders sagged in defeat, and he felt the fight leave her.  
“I cannot give you what you need,” she whispered through her tears. “This is so hard for me, but I’m not what you need in a wife.”  
“I know what I need in a wife,” he said, anger infused in his voice. “I get to decide what I need, nobody else. It is my decision.”  
She stood silent before him, the sound of her crying the only noise in the stillness surrounding them.  
He sighed, a deep gesture that came from the depths of his soul. “We cannot discuss this here,” he said. “Come.”  
Keeping his hold on her arm, he led her back through the palace and straight to his chambers. Gripping both her upper arms, he turned her and forced her to sit on the couch. “Speak.”  
“You know my past,” she whispered. “You know what I’ve had to come through, the fight I’ve had to survive, to be accepted, to become the person I am. You know the demons I’ve had to stand toe to toe with, the wars I’ve had to fight within myself.”  
“Yes, I know this,” he said.  
“I came into your life surrounded by mystery, secrecy, and lies,” she said, her voice unsteady. “I came to you beaten, broken, and scarred. I came to you with shadows so dark and dense that I never wanted them to see the light of day again, ever.”  
She paused, and he waited. Her gaze remained on the floor at her feet.  
“I came before the great King Thranduil, whose reputation preceded him across middle earth, known for the best in everything. Women, food, wine, clothing, jewels, everything a King could wish for. I had nothing. _I am nothing _.”__  
She stopped again, pausing to grasp some sort of control.  
“I fell in love with you and I should not have done, because I have nothing to give. I have no respectable heritage, I have no childhood memories worth sharing. I have no wealth, no lands, nothing. I do not have what you need in a lifelong partner, I am not in your league.”  
A tense silence followed.  
“No you are right. You are not in my league,” he said, his tone hard.  
She blinked more tears.  
He knelt on the floor before her, taking her hands in his. “You are way above my league,” he whispered. “You always have been. No breeding or status can ever change that. I have never known such a strong, stubborn person in all the centuries I can remember, and I never will. You have a flame that burns strong inside you Tora, so intense that it can never be extinguished. There is nothing in this whole world that can ever take that from you. Your heritage means nothing – the evil your parents did to you and told you means nothing to me. I love the person you are, the light you shine, the meaning you give to my life. You make me feel things I never thought I would ever feel, I have discovered things I never knew before. I cannot let you go Tora, I need you. You are the other half of me, and I am only half a person when you are not at my side.”  
His blue eyes searched hers, seeking some sort of reaction, a spark of life, anything. All he saw was doubt and insecurity.  
“I know your parents told you that you were worthless, but my angel, they were so, so wrong,” he said, his words soft. “You are worth more than any precious jewel, any amount of gold. You just do not see this, but I promise you with everything that I am, you are.”  
She closed her eyes, a fresh wave of tears cascading down her cheeks.  
“What do I have to say to make you believe me?” he pleaded. “What do I have to do? Tell me Tora, please tell me, and I will do it.”  
Her hands trembled in his, ice cold. He rubbed his hands around hers, the friction bringing a little heat into them.  
She genuinely didn’t know how to answer him, because she didn’t know if it was possible to convince her otherwise of what she believed to be true.  
As if reading her mind, he released one hand and gently tipped her chin up. “I know that you believe the lies that have been forced upon you as a young child, but that is all they are – lies. Hateful, evil lies. Nothing more, nothing less.”  
“You deserve someone who will give you the best of everything,” she whispered.  
“You do,” he told her. “You make me laugh. You make me angry. You drive me crazy. You terrify me. You excite me. You make me feel so good, it is probably against a law somewhere to feel as good. You do that to me, nobody else.”  
“I still feel-“  
He silenced her by crushing his mouth to hers, cutting off whatever she was about to say, sure that it was nonsense anyway. Both hands lifted and gently framed her face, his lips tenderly teasing hers into responding. A soft purr of pleasure sounded from her as her lips parted, allowing his tongue to sweep inside her mouth, and he angled his head to deepen the kiss.  
Fireworks blasted between them. Doubts, pride, hurt, and tears vanished as hungry hands tangled in long hair, clothing pulled apart and shoved aside, mouths devoured and bit each other.  
His chest heaved as he breathed, as he tore down the leggings she wore. Pulling her from the couch, he slid her onto his thighs and took her in a single swift thrust.  
Her head fell back and she cried out in passion at the welcome intrusion, her body clenching around his. His mouth kissed down her shoulder and he sucked on her nipple as he took the weight of her breasts in both hands. She flexed her fingers in his hair, holding him tighter against her as she ground her hips down onto him, his thumb working magic on her other nipple.  
Dragging his mouth away from her, he gazed at her through glazed eyes. “Do not ever tell me we are not made for each other,” he panted. “Do not ever tell me we are not perfect together. We complete each other.”  
She pulled him back, ravaging his mouth with hers, small whimpers of need fuelling his desire. He gripped her hips, holding her steady as he thrust up into her, hard and fast. Her legs trembled, her body shuddered.  
“You need me as much as I need you,” he whispered hoarsely. “Your body is so attuned to mine, nobody else’s.”  
“I could never be with anybody else,” she gasped, feeling her orgasm creeping up on her at speed. “Never. Nobody could make me feel like you do.”  
With a sudden move, he changed positions and before she realised what was happening, she was on her back on the rug and he was towering over her, his hips plunging deeper. He lifted himself up onto his hands, creating a space between them.  
“Look at us,” he whispered, lowering his head to look between her legs at their intimate joining. “Look how good we are together.”  
She followed his gaze, gasping at the erotic view of him thrusting in between her open thighs. His eyes lifted to hers again, the lust blazing out of control in the blue depths.  
“Come for me,” he urged in a frantic whisper. “Come hard for me, scream for me.”  
Her body tightened at his words, her thighs trembled as he pushed deeper, faster. The world around her vanished in a haze as her body spasmed out of control in an earth-destroying climax, a lusty howl tearing from her throat. Two or three thrusts later, she felt his hot come flowing deep into her as she convulsed around his solid length. The taut muscles across his back and shoulders gradually relaxed, tiredness sweeping over him.  
Eventually, he lifted his head from her shoulder, studying her with eyes that made her want to do it all over again.  
“I will voice my plea once more,” he told her. “Marry me.”  
Hot tears streamed from her eyes, and she lifted a hand to touch his cheek.  
“Yes,” she whispered.  
Crushing her mouth with his, he rolled to one side with her, still joined, and showed her just how much he cherished her.


	20. Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

 

Thranduil rolled his eyes, bored out of his head, as he slouched carelessly in his seat.  
The lords gathered around the table continued to argue and shout between themselves, oblivious to their King’s lack of interest.  
Tora scribbled rapidly, omitting various curses that had no need to appear on the final minutes. Legolas sat to her right, tapping a finger on the desk as he hummed away to himself under his breath.  
“My Lord, do you not have an opinion on this matter?” a vexed lord questioned angrily.  
Thranduil turned his exceptionally bored gaze in the stout man’s direction. “No. I do not.”  
Tora stifled the urge to laugh at the cool arrogance in his reply.  
“Well, I must say, I do not find this appropriate,” the lord remarked. “You after all, are the King! You should have something interesting to say!”  
“Actually, I do,” Thranduil said, with a sudden burst of energy as he hauled his body into a more upright position.  
Heads turned in his direction, interest piqued.  
“Last night, I asked this beautiful lady for her hand in marriage, and she accepted,” he said, smiling at Tora.  
Her eyes widened in shock, as gasps echoed around the table.  
Thranduil winked at her, his smile full of arrogant confidence.  
“My Lord, this is unacceptable!” one of those gathered shouted.  
She recognised him as the one who had called her out previously over the unguarded area, the one she’d drawn a caricature of afterwards.  
Thranduil’s eyebrows came down in a frown. “Explain yourself,” he commanded. “As the King of this realm, I remind you that I need no permission on who I choose to wed. It is none of your concern.”  
“You cannot wed this woman!” the lord exclaimed, his face red with fury as he rose to his feet. “She is nothing but a compulsive liar, who has tricked her way into this kingdom with the intent of enticing you into her bed!”  
“You do not disrespect her!” Thranduil roared, getting to his feet. He towered over even the tallest elf. “She is going to be your Queen, and there is no more to discuss.”  
“You do not know of her background,” the lord hissed. “She has lied about it! She is of royal descent! She did not tell you that, did she?”  
“Yes, she did,” Thranduil shot back.  
Silence filled the room.  
Tora’s cheeks flushed. This was something she did not want anyone to be aware of, and as far as she had known, nobody had been.  
“You do not know everything,” the exasperated man argued.  
“What I do know is that you are facing a very long spell in my dungeons if you do not learn to close your mouth, and close it fast,” Thranduil snarled, circling the table. “What I choose to do with my life and who I share my bed with is none of your business. You will respect her and approach her in the same manner as you would myself. As far as you are concerned, she is to be obeyed at all times and not one word of insubordination will come out of your mouth! _Do I make myself clear _?”__  
The disgraced lord gulped, giving a brief nod. “Yes, my King,” he stammered. “Of course.”  
“Good. Anyone else wish to voice their negative thoughts?” He swirled round, hands clasped behind his back, and strode back up the length of the table.  
One of the lords gave a discreet cough. “May I offer you both my congratulations, my Lord, m’lady,” he said. “Personally, I disagree with the lord here. I think you have made an excellent choice of wife.”  
Thranduil tipped his head in silent acknowledgement. “If no-one else has anything worthwhile, this meeting is over.”  
Chairs scraped against the floor as the assembled council got to their feet and shuffled out of the room, closing the door and leaving himself, Tora, and Legolas.  
Legolas burst out laughing as soon as the door closed, leaning back in his seat and lifting one foot up onto the table. “Oh my...you certainly know how to liven up a boring meeting,” he laughed. “Congratulations, both of you. I am truly happy for you, and I wish you all the love and happiness for the future.” He rose from his seat, pulling Tora to her feet and enclosing her in a tight embrace, before moving to his father and doing the same.  
“Thankyou,” she said, relieved that she had her friend’s blessing to be married to his father. Although she knew Thranduil didn’t need his approval, it did mean a lot to both of them.  
“So...spill all the details,” Legolas said, sitting back in his chair and propping both feet up on the table.  
“What do you want to know?” she asked with a laugh.  
“Nothing perverted,” he said. “Just how it all came about, that’s all.” Humour sparkled in his eyes.  
Thranduil sat on the edge of the table, taking Tora’s hands in his as she stood before him. “I decided it felt right, I want to spend eternity with this amazing woman, so I asked her to marry me. She said yes, and made me the happiest being in the world.” His eyes never left hers as he spoke. “Now I want to make plans for our future together, and find ways to make sure I can keep her happy forever.”  
She lifted one hand to his cheek. “You do make me happy,” she said softly, the emotion clear in her eyes.  
Legolas coughed, breaking the magic between them. “So when are you planning on the big event?” he asked. “We are going to be besieged with hoards of well-wishers, I hope you know that. We need the kitchens back up and functioning fully before the big day.”  
“And they will be,” Thranduil said smoothly. “They are almost ready. Besides, my bride needs time to prepare herself, decide what she is going to wear...there is a lot to be arranged.”  
“Is it true what that lunatic said?” his son asked, after a pause.  
Tora’s gaze dropped. “Yes, it is,” she replied.  
Legolas’s eyes widened, then he frowned. “Why keep it a secret?” he asked.  
She sat back down, on Thranduil’s seat this time, directly in front of him.  
He chose to answer for her. “Because it is not a happy heritage,” he said, watching her for any sign that she wanted him to stop. She showed no reaction, so he continued, telling Legolas everything.  
Once he had finished, an uncomfortable silence hung over them.  
“Tora, I am so sorry,” Legolas said, reaching over and placing his hand on her arm. “I had no idea. I have heard stories from years past, but I did not know it was you who had suffered so cruelly.”  
She met his eyes, reading genuine truth in the blue depths.  
“No-one needs to know the details,” Thranduil said. “That pompous oaf had better not speak of this again, lest he feel the full force of my anger. I doubt the others who were present will dare utter a word.”  
Legolas nodded, withdrawing his hand. “It does not concern them, nor does your upcoming marriage,” he said. “They obviously do not have enough to keep themselves busy, or else they would not be interfering and passing judgement.”  
“I worried this would happen,” Tora said quietly, her eyes meeting her lover’s.  
He reached over and gripped her hand in his. “It makes no difference,” he told her. “Not to how I feel, about you as a person, or about how you will rule this kingdom with me. If they have a problem with that, then they are free to leave and go to other lands. They know this.”  
“It is putting an unfair burden on your shoulders,” she said. “You should not have to deal with this.”  
He shrugged. “I deal with things how I see fit,” he replied. “What others think has no bearing on my actions. Particularly in this instance. I do not wish you to think about this any longer, instead I want you to start thinking about the wedding.”  
She raised her eyebrows with a subtle smile. “You certainly do have a bee in your bonnet,” she laughed.  
He returned her smile. “Yes. I’m still in shock you accepted, so I want to be wed before you come to your senses and change your mind.”  
Legolas laughed heartily at that. “Slow down father, you’re almost dragging her down the aisle!” he chuckled.  
“Now there is an appealing thought,” Thranduil remarked with a smirk.  
“Don’t even,” she warned. “I’m only ever going to do this once, so I want to do it right. God...this is a bit overwhelming.”  
“Anything to do with him is overwhelming,” Legolas muttered with a grin.  
“Do you not have somewhere to be, orcs to be killing, elves to be courting, or something?” Thranduil demanded.  
His son snorted and got up from his seat. “I shall seek out some waif to seduce, if that is your wish,” he quipped. “Behave in my absence.”  
His father rolled his eyes but declined to comment. “We will have to talk about what we want for the wedding,” he said to Tora. “I want to know everything you’ve ever wished for, everything you want to have, and I will make sure you have it.”  
She smiled, touching her hand to his cheek. “All I want is to be with you,” she murmered. “Nothing else.”  
“You are far too easily pleased,” he replied. “You should be demanding an extravagant gown, priceless gems, servants to wait on you hand and foot-“  
She cut him off by standing between his thighs and pressing her mouth to his, stopping his flow of outrageous suggestions. “All I want is you,” she whispered. “What do I have to do to convince you?”  
He laughed, a deep, dirty laugh which sent shivers down to her toes. “Take me to bed,” he murmered against her mouth. “Do dirty things to me. Drive me crazy for you. Actually, you do not have to do that. You do it already just by being around me.” He smiled sweetly.  
“Aww!” she laughed, her cheeks turning pink. “Do we not have work to do today, instead of messing up the bed?”  
“Nothing that can’t wait,” he replied. “Alright, I do have some things to attend to,” he admitted.  
“And what can I do?” she asked.  
His eyes sparkled. “I think you should have some time to yourself,” he said. “We have been through a lot in the last few days, and I think you should have some quiet time to rest.”  
Tora frowned at him. “I’ll be bored,” she said.  
He grinned, rubbing his hands in circles on her waist. “I shall take care of the things I need to do, then we shall spend a quiet afternoon together. How does that sound?”  
She brightened up. “I prefer the sound of that,” she said, leaning in for a quick kiss. “Go do what you need to, then find me.”  
*****  
Tora wiled the morning hours away by storming the kitchens, having sent away the captain Legolas had left there. Rangol was pleased to see her back, and the two of them worked together in refitting wooden storage units. They worked well together, squeezing in between the others who were working at a quarter of the pace.  
Wiping her hands down her face, Tora put her hands on her hips and surveyed what they’d accomplished.  
“That definitely looks much better,” she decided. “At least now they are fitted flush against the wall, and not at a stupid angle like they were before.” She’d sent a team of elves to work on another section on her arrival, disgusted at how they’d started to install the units.  
“Why am I not in the least bit surprised to find you down here, you impish woman?” a deep voice said behind her.  
Turning in surprise, she found herself staring at Thranduil’s chest. Lifting her eyes, she found him looking down at her with a look between a scowl and amusement.  
“I uhm...”she started, trying to think of an excuse.  
Rangol disappeared.  
One eyebrow lifted. “I do not want to know,” Thranduil sighed. “Are you hungry?”  
“More thirsty,” she replied, taking the hand he offered.  
“You need to keep hydrated when you work like a dog,” he said, leading her up the stone steps. “I thought I told you to rest?”  
“You said we would spend a quiet afternoon together,” she corrected him, earning herself a sideways glance. “Oh don’t be angry with me babe, I was so bored!”  
He stopped at the top of the steps and gazed down at her. “I am not angry,” he said. “I have come to realise there is no point, you will still find a way to get around me and get your own way. I think I shall have to tie you to the furniture or something so I know where you are.”  
She laughed. “Only in your perverted mind,” she replied. “I would really like something cold to drink,” she added, almost as an afterthought.  
“A glass of wine?” he asked. “Or something else?”  
“Ha...you are trying to get me drunk for later,” she laughed. “Trust me, you do not need to get me drunk. I need a clear head for what I have planned for you.”  
He lifted his eyebrows, a smirk forming. “Sounds devilish,” he murmered.  
“It is,” she promised.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Strong violence and scenes of rape.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

 

The next few weeks flew past. Tora and Thranduil lost themselves in ideas for their upcoming wedding, passing thoughts back and forth and deciding what suited both of them. She tended to follow his guidance and suggestions, much to his annoyance; he wanted to know what she wanted. Her reply was that she was happy whatever he liked. Her argument was that he was accustomed to the lifestyle where she wasn’t, and he had more of an idea what would be expected of a royal wedding.  
His response was that he didn’t give a toss what was expected – the wedding was being planned around what they wanted, not what his subjects wanted. They could plan their own weddings and get what they wanted, and keep their opinions out of his and Tora’s.  
He left her sketching ideas for her wedding gown one afternoon, and went off to one of the villages for a meeting with the townsfolk there, taking a legion of his guards with him.  
She sat doodling on the paper, various thoughts coming to her, different ideas that flowed through her creative mind. She did several pages of sketches, taking sections from one idea and transferring them over to others, mixing and matching in an attempt to come up with the prefect gown that would take Thranduil’s breath away.  
Tossing the lead to one side, she rolled her shoulders and rubbed the back of her neck, stiff and sore from sitting in the same position for too long. A noise behind her made her turn slightly.  
“You’re back early,” she mused over her shoulder.  
No reply.  
Twisting round, she frowned, sure she had heard something, yet the large room was empty.  
“Thranduil?” she called, hesitantly.  
Still silence.  
Something made the hairs on her arms stand on end, as she slowly rose from her seat. Her blood had a chill to it, and her instinct told her something was seriously wrong.  
A gasp left her as a shape moved out of the shadows, moving to stand out in the open.  
“Well, well, well...from a prisoner to becoming a queen,” the shape said in a low voice. “How things have changed. I wonder how you managed it.”  
She frowned, knowing the man who stood before her was familiar. “I know you from somewhere,” she said, her mind working overtime.  
“So you should,” he replied and took a step towards her.  
She instinctively took a step back.  
“I should have finished you off when I found you out in the woods,” he growled.  
Her heart missed a beat. “You’re the guard,” she realised. “You’re the one who threw me in the dungeons, wouldn’t let me speak to the King.”  
He laughed humourlessly. “Got it in one,” he said. “Clever girl. What I want to know is how you managed to work your way to the throne...how many nights in Thranduil’s bed before he asked?”  
Her cheeks flushed. “I thought you were in prison.”  
“I was. But he banished me from the realm,” he said, another step closer. “It’s amazing what being a patrol guard can do for you – I know how to get in and out of here without being seen.”  
“He’ll kill you if he finds you here,” she said.  
“Who says he’s going to find me?”  
He stared at her for a few seconds before reaching out and grabbing her hair, pulling her towards him and swinging a punch to her face. She gasped in pain as his fist connected, stars exploding behind her eye. Before she had time to react and try to defend herself, he grabbed her arms and dragged her up against his body, glaring down at her.  
“He won’t want to touch you after I’m finished with you,” he snarled. “Nobody will, nobody’ll look twice at you. You’ll be tossed out with the rubbish.”  
Throwing her to the floor, he dropped his weight onto her stomach, pinning her onto her back. Rapid blows rained down on her, rendering her dazed and stunned.  
Pain sliced through her head and blood streamed from lacerations on her forehead, her cheek, and her nose. She gasped as she tried to breathe, trying desperately to push him off her. His weight held her against the cold stone floor, immobile and unable to move him. Opening her mouth to scream, she twisted her head from side to side as he placed a hand over her mouth, preventing her from yelling.  
“Nobody’s going to come for you this time,” he snarled, grabbing a handful of fabric. The sound of her top ripping seemed to echo around the room, painfully loud to her ears. She kicked her legs and gave everything she had, but was rewarded with an arm across her throat, cutting off her air supply. “Do you think he’s going to save you? I don’t think so...he’s off playing at being superior somewhere. He can’t hear you. Nobody can hear you.”  
She knew in the back of her mind what he was planning to do, and was determined not to back down and make it easy for him. Clawing at his face, she drew blood as she dug her nails in, earning herself a backhander in return.  
She didn’t quit.  
Finally managing to dislodge the solid weight of him, she kicked out and flew to her knees, spinning away from him and leaping to her feet. A gasp escaped from her as an arm crossed over her throat from behind, tightening and dragging her backwards. Both hands flew up and grabbed the arm as she tried to lever it away, desperate for air as she started to choke. Her legs gave way beneath her as he kicked the back of her knees and she went down, the arm still maintaining its grip. Leaning forward, he leaned over her and she dug her elbow backwards, coming into contact with flesh. Quick as lightening she did it again, determined not to be beaten. A hand grabbed her hair and yanked her head backwards, hurting her neck.  
Her terrified eyes met those of the guard.  
Determined not to let this beast win, she launched into full attack mode, with the thought that he was not going to have an easy time of it. Knowing she was going to lose and that he would succeed in what he had planned for her, she fought with every ounce of strength she had. He was far stronger than her though, and far more focused. The more she fought, the more of a game it became for him.  
*****  
Thranduil held the silver ring between his thumb and his index finger, holding it up and inspecting it. Sunlight shone off the ice blue diamonds, dazzling him. A smile curved his full mouth.  
Tora would love it.  
She had a thing for light blue, saying often that it reminded her of his eyes, and this particular piece of jewellery had caught his eye as he was conversing with the trader. Made with a wide band of silver, the diamonds were arranged around it in a zig-zag pattern.  
“I am sure your lovely lady will adore it, my Lord,” the trader assured him.  
“Yes, she will,” he replied, handing it to the man. “Please wrap it for me.”  
“Certainly, my Lord,” came the reply.  
“A beautiful piece,” Thranduil’s guard commented, digging into his cloak for gold to pay. “Very fitting.”  
Thranduil smiled. “I left her designing her wedding gown,” he murmered, casting an eye over his shoulder.  
The guard returned his smile. “I am sure she will look radiant, my Lord.”  
Thranduil cast his eyes skyward as the heavens darkened, heavy with dark grey clouds that promised a downpour of rain shortly. “We had better be heading back soon,” he said. “I do not wish the horses to be out for long, these showers can be heavy and last for quite a while.”  
“Of course, my Lord,” the guard replied as he handed gold coins to the trader. He took the package and handed it to his King, a smile of approval on his face. Thranduil tucked it safely into his cloak, swinging himself back up onto his horse and bidding the trader farewell. Turning the animal around, the accompanying guards turned with him and headed back at a slow pace towards the palace.  
*****  
Tora’s head spun as she felt a hand grabbing a fistful of her hair, dragging her head up. Blood ran down her face from a deep gash on her forehead, and one just under her right eye. Her face was starting to bruise, dark patches appearing on her skin. A garbled scream left her lips as she felt a solid kick, feeling and hearing a resounding snap. A searing pain shot through her upper body, and she collapsed back on the floor. Her attempts at defending herself were slowing down with exhaustion and injury, and the guard was aware of her receding strength.  
He pinned her body to the floor, hauling and tearing at the skirts of her dress. Her head hit the floor as darkness began to creep in. Her attacker grabbed her jaw, forcing her to look at him. The roof behind him spun in faster and faster circles as she gazed at him, unable to defend herself any longer.  
“That’s better,” he snarled.  
She felt herself start to choke and be sick as he parted her legs and forced his way inside her.  
*****  
She slowly opened her eyes.  
Pain radiated through every part of her body, from bruises and cuts, to the feeling she had been torn apart as he’d violated her. She blinked slowly, wondering if she had the strength to crawl out of the room and seek help.  
Her chest felt like every bone was going to snap as she dragged air into her lungs, exhaling on a shaky breath wracked with agony. No doubt at least one of her ribs had been broken, maybe more. She painfully rolled over onto her front, dragging herself up onto her knees. Pressing the heel of one hand to her head, she squinted as she tried to focus on her surroundings, everything blurred and seeming out of place.  
A scream ripped up from her throat as she found herself swiftly booted back down onto the floor and flipped over onto her back again, her head slamming hard against the unyielding stone.  
“Looks like you haven’t learned your lesson,” the guard hissed, his face inches from hers. “Maybe you need to be taught again.” The stench of sweat from him made her retch.  
She raised her hands weakly, protesting as he knelt in between her legs again.  
“No,” she gasped, her voice almost gone.  
Her pleas fell on deaf ears as she felt the burning, splitting pain of him forcing himself into her again.  
*****  
“Aria, please tell Tora I am back, and that I wish to see her,” Thranduil commanded, sliding off his horse and patting the animal’s neck.  
“At once, my Lord,” the servant replied with a smile, bowing as she quickly turned and hurried inside the palace. The King looked like he had planned something, and her mouth curved into a grin as she hurried through the hallways, wondering what he was up to. Tora was good for him, and they seemed so in love, everybody was talking about them.  
“Tora, are you in here?” she called, knocking on the door to the King’s chambers. Hearing no reply, she opened the door and peeped in, seeing nobody. She backed out and closed the door, but something made her frown and she pushed it back open again. “Tora?”  
Hesitantly stepping inside, her hand fell from the handle as she noticed what appeared to be a blood stain on the floor. She stepped towards it, wondering what it was, and stopped suddenly, letting out a horrified scream.  
Tora lay unconscious on the floor behind the gauze drape, her clothing ripped and torn. Blood pooled around her, and her body was beaten and bruised.  
Rushing to her side, Aria dropped to her knees, touching her face. “Tora! Tora, wake up,” she pleaded. “Tora, it’s Aria!”  
No response.  
Aria flew to her feet, running back to the door in a wild panic. Screaming to the guard passing at the end of the passageway, she begged him to fetch the King, and to hurry.  
*****  
Thranduil pushed his guards aside and hurried from the stables, covering the courtyard in seconds and throwing the palace doors open. Servants jumped aside as he strode through the dark corridors, fearing the look in his eyes.  
He swept around the corner and into his chambers, the door lying half open.  
A horrifying sight met his eyes.  
He ran across the floor, dropping to his knees and skidding to a halt beside Tora. Gently cradling her head in his hands, tears rolled down his face.  
“Tora! My love, what happened? Tora, talk to me, my angel, talk to me!” he pleaded.  
Aria touched his arm. “We need to get her to the healing rooms,” she said gently. “She needs help, quickly.”  
Dazed eyes turned to her, confusion, fear, and pain in the depths. “What happened to her?” he whispered. “Get my cloak from the chair!”  
“I do not know my Lord,” the servant sobbed, lifting his cloak and handing it to him. “I just came in a few minutes ago and found her like this.”  
Thranduil wrapped the cloak around her body to cover her dignity, before lifting her into his arms. “The healing rooms,” he ground out, crossing the floor with her.  
Aria ran down the hallways before him, clearing the way and ensuring nobody intercepted him. The steps up to the healers’ area seemed to have multiplied as he bounded up them, but within seconds he was marching into the secluded area.  
“Oh dear God,” Bryden gasped at the sight of him carrying Tora.  
“Help her,” Thranduil pleaded. He set her down on a bed, wiping the back of one hand across his face to dispel the tears he hadn’t even been aware of.  
Bryden moved rapidly, lifting the cloak and peering up between her thighs, shaking his head in horror as he quickly assessed her injuries. “Leave her with us,” he said, beckoning two female healers to his side. “Find the beast who did this to her, my Lord, and make him pay for what he has done.”  
The two female healers took their places at Tora’s side, working in a quick, efficient manner. Thranduil watched them in a daze, wondering what the hell had happened and who was responsible.  
“My Lord!” Bryden’s sharp voice hit home, dragging him back to reality. “My Lord, we need to work on her,” he said insistently. “You must leave us, now.”  
He shook his head in tearful denial. “No. I am staying with her,” he whispered.  
Bryden took his arm. “My Lord, she has been raped, at least once. Our examination will cause her distress, you cannot be here. It is best you leave us and let us do what we have to do.”  
Aria appeared at his elbow. “My Lord, he is right,” she said softly. “Let them do what they can. I shall inform Legolas and bring him to you.”  
Thranduil stared at Tora, stunned and in a trance. “I cannot leave her,” he breathed. “I have to be with her...”  
Within a few minutes, Legolas flew to his father’s side, gasping at the sight of his soon to be step-mother. “Father, come on,” he urged, taking his arm. “You cannot be in here while they examine her. Come with me, I shall stay with you.”  
He forcefully dragged him from the room into the hallway outside, with Byden closing the door firmly behind them. Thranduil broke, collapsing into his son’s arms as the metallic sound of the lock sliding home echoed in the emptiness.


	22. Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

 

Legolas held on to his father with strong arms around his shoulders, worry etched on his face. He had never seen him like this, and had no idea what to do to alleviate his distress. Thranduil cried onto his shoulder, his body shaking with grief.  
Aria hovered unobtrusively, a gentle hand on one of his, the other on Legolas’s arm. “Come and sit here and wait,” she suggested after a while, guiding the two of them over to a padded couch that sat against the far wall.   
Legolas steered his father towards it, helping him to sit. He dropped to his knees in front of him, searching his eyes anxiously.  
“Who did this to her?” Thranduil whispered brokenly, heartbreak clear in his tearful blue eyes. “Who did this?”  
Legolas shook his head. “I do not know,” he sighed. “But I promise, we will not rest until we find out, and hold them accountable. That is my oath.”  
“There was hardly anyone in the palace,” Aria murmered softly. “Most of the guards were off duty, and only a handful remained behind once you left, my Lord. The others accompanied you.”  
He took a deep, shaky breath, trying to gain some sort of control.   
“She will come through this,” Legolas promised him, holding on to his knees. “She is strong, and she has you to help her.”  
Thranduil leapt to his feet as a blood-curdling scream came from the room where Tora was, pushing his son aside. “Tora!” he bellowed, striding over and pounding on the heavy door. “Tora!”  
She screamed again, a long, drawn-out scream full of agony and fear.  
He exploded in fury, attacking the door in an attempt to get to her. “Tora! I am here! Let me in!” he roared over her anguished cries.  
“Father, let them work!” Legolas shouted over him, trying to pull him away. “You might be making things worse!”  
Bryden appeared, hurriedly closing the door as the King fought his way free from his son’s iron hold. “My Lord, this is not good,” he said gravely. “She is terrified, I cannot get anywhere near her. She is only responding to females. She can hear you my Lord, and she is becoming too distressed. We cannot work on her like this.”  
Thranduil breathed heavily, his head turning towards the door, where he could hear Tora crying. “I can help her,” he said.  
Bryden shook his head. “I’m sorry my Lord, nobody can help her right now, save the healers who are with her. Let them do what they can.”  
“What do we know so far?” Legolas asked, keeping an eye on his father who leaned his forehead and both hands against the wooden door.   
“From what I can gather, she has been raped twice,” Bryden said quietly. “She has significant trauma and bleeding to her vaginal area, and bruising. Otherwise, there is not much else I can say at the moment.”  
“Oh my God,” Aria whispered, a tear falling down her cheek.  
Legolas closed his eyes in shock.  
Thranduil turned his back to the door, sliding down to the floor as grief overtook him. Holding his head in his hands, he made a noise of anguish, sounding like a wounded animal.  
Legolas dropped to the floor beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and dragging him half onto his legs. Bryden shook his head in sympathy, lost at the sight of a King broken before him. A strong warrior King, who feared nothing, now half lying across his son, crying as though his heart was breaking.  
*****  
“Drink,” Legolas said, sitting down at Thranduil’s side and pushing a cup of tea into his shaking hands. “You need to drink something.”  
Aria watched from one side, unsure of what to do.  
Thranduil took the cup his son forced into his hands, staring at it as though he didn’t know what it was.  
They had eventually left the healing rooms, taking refuge in Legolas’s chambers away from prying eyes. The palace was eerily quiet, servants and guards keeping themselves out of the way. News had spread that Tora had been viciously attacked, and nobody wanted to anger the King in his current frame of mind.  
“I should never have left her,” he whispered.  
Legolas glanced at Aria. “You cannot stay with her round the clock, and you cannot blame yourself,” he said softly. “We had no way of knowing this would happen. It is not your fault.”  
Heartbroken blue eyes lifted, full of anguish. “I should have been with her, I should have protected her,” he said.  
“You could not have foreseen this,” Aria said. “Please do not blame yourself, my Lord. Maybe if I had been with her, this would never have happened.”  
“Do not shoulder the blame either,” Legolas said over his shoulder. “This has been an evil attack from a depraved, low-down scum and nobody knew it would happen. The blame lies with the person behind this, no-one else.”  
“I will find out who did this, and they will die,” Thranduil whispered, his gaze far away. “They will die an excruciatingly painful death for what they have done.”  
Legolas nodded. “We will get him,” he vowed. “But right now we need to be strong for Tora. She will need us once she recovers enough to leave the healing rooms.”  
His father stayed silent, gazing off into the distance. Aria asked if he wanted anything to eat, but he declined with a shake of his head. Legolas also refused, having no appetite.   
A quiet knock on the door made three heads turn, and Aria hurried over to open it. Bryden stepped into the room, his hands clasped in front of him.  
Thranduil rose to his feet, his body trembling. “How is she?” he asked.  
The healer cast his eyes downwards. “She will recover,” he said. “But her injuries are bad.”  
Legolas exhaled through his nose, rubbing his eyes. “How bad?” he asked.  
“As I said before, there are significant internal injuries,” he said. “They will take a long time to heal, even with elf magic. Some things cannot be rushed. She has been badly beaten, and has suffered a great deal at the hands of her attacker.”  
Thranduil’s head dropped, and his shoulders sagged.  
“She has numerous lacerations all over, bite marks, bruises, and two ribs have been broken,” Bryden continued, his tone as gentle and reassuring as he could manage. “My concern however, does not lie with her physical state.”  
Thranduil lifted his head sharply and looked at him. “What do you speak of?”  
“Her emotional state is more pressing,” he replied. “She will not allow any male into the room, and was hysterical while we were treating her. I had to follow her wishes and leave.”  
The King covered his face with both hands.  
“How long will she be up in the healing rooms?” Aria asked. “Maybe I can go and see her.”  
“She has been asking for you,” Bryden told her. “She trusts you, and wants you with her when you can. I would encourage that my dear, for no one else is making much progress.”  
“I will go and see her,” Thranduil said.  
Bryden shook his head sadly. “Do not expect too much, my Lord,” he advised. “I have never seen one so traumatised, and I cannot predict how she will respond, if at all.”  
“She needs to know I am here for her,” he whispered.  
“If my Lord would allow...maybe I should go first, maybe ease the way a little,” Aria said softly, and left the room at Legolas’s nod.  
Thranduil looked devastated.  
“It is not your fault, my Lord,” Bryden assured him. “She distrusts every male within a thousand mile radius right now. That is understandable, considering what was done to her.”  
Legolas gripped his father’s elbow to steady him as he wobbled on his feet. “We will give her all the time she needs, and be here for her when she is ready,” he assured the healer. “Please keep us updated as often as you can.”  
“I shall,” he promised. “Just please find the bastard who did this to one of ours.” He bowed and left the room, closing the door as he went.  
Thranduil sank down onto the couch, holding his head in his hands. “I do not know what to do,” he said, his voice broken.  
“There is nothing, except wait until she is ready,” his son replied, sitting beside him so their shoulders were touching. “All we can do is wait.”  
*****  
Aria smiled gently as she tucked a stray lock of hair behind Tora’s ear. “The King is beside himself wanting to be with you,” she said, her tone quiet and reassuring. “Legolas had to wrestle him to keep him out of here while the healers worked with you.”  
Sad eyes gazed at the far wall, seeing nothing. “I do not want anyone other than yourself with me,” she whispered after a long silence. “No one.”  
“Then no one will come, except me,” she promised. “The most important thing is for you to rest and recover, no matter how long it takes. We are here for you when you are ready.”  
Tora blinked, fighting both physical and emotional pain.  
“Tora...who did this to you?” Aria asked.  
She didn’t answer, and the servant sat back a little with a sad sigh.   
“King Thranduil is blaming himself,” she said.  
Still nothing.  
Aria sat in silence, not knowing what to do or say. Her mistress was destroyed both bodily and mentally, and she didn’t know how to fix her.  
Tora rolled over a little, the soft blanket around her settling tighter around her legs. “I don’t know how to deal with this,” she murmered.  
“Let us help,” Aria replied, stroking her arm. “We will do everything we can to help you, you know this. I’m your friend, Legolas is your friend, and the King loves you so much. There is nothing we would not do for you.”  
She didn’t answer, just sniffed quietly as a tear rolled down her cheek. Aria leaned over and wiped it away, fighting back her own tears.   
*****  
Three days passed.  
Thranduil sat as still as a marble statue. He hadn’t moved in so long his back was starting to hurt, and his legs had effectively gone to sleep. He gripped Tora’s hand, never taking his eyes from her face.  
The face that could light up his darkest days, lift him up when he was at his lowest, give him the reassurance he needed when things were so wrong - that face now lay turned against the pillow away from him; beaten, broken, smashed and from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, almost unrecognisable.  
He’d lost track of time, didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there, holding onto her, silently begging her to look at him. But she wouldn’t. She was awake, and although she was heavily drugged with healing herbs to help with pain relief, he knew she was aware of his presence. But she didn’t acknowledge him. Not once.  
The door opened and closed again, the sound of soft footsteps squeaking slightly on the floor. A soft hand touched his shoulder.  
“My Lord, she needs her rest,” a gentle voice said.  
He turned to see one of the female healers, the one he’d threatened with lifelong imprisonment if she did not allow him in to see her. He slowly took a deep breath. “I cannot go,” he whispered. “I cannot leave her.”  
“I am sorry, my Lord,” she said. “But she needs to rest...she will not while you are here.”  
Seconds ticked past, and he continued to gaze at Tora. He slowly stood, leaning down to kiss the hand he held, before releasing it.  
She didn’t respond.  
*****  
A huge vase of tiger lilies sat on the shelf just below shoulder-height, the fragrant blooms brightening up the corridor. The sunlight spilled in through the window along at the end, pouring along the walls and the floor. Likewise, the bedroom was lit with bright sunlight, the paintings on the walls seeming to glow.  
The bed was neatly made, not a single crease on the bedding. A large white vase of pink and red carnations stood proudly on the bedside table. The drapes were held in place with tie-backs, the expensive fabric brushing the floor. A cool breeze filtered in, drawing a sense of calm and peace to the room.  
Tora swept blue eyes over the scene in front of her, scanning everything but seeing nothing. Thranduil stood to the side of her, watching her intently, desperately wanting to touch her arm in a comforting gesture, a touch of companionship, a contact of some sort.  
Any time he’d tried to reach out to her in the last two days, she’d flinched away from him. Eyed him wearily, and he couldn’t figure out what was going on in those troubled eyes. She’d watched the healers in a guarded manner, shying away when they went too close to her. His heart had broken, watching his confident, sometimes bolshy mate attempt to curl up and fade away in the corner away from people. She was slowly but surely pushing everyone away, keeping everybody at arms’ length.  
She took a deep breath and walked across the room, dropping her weight into the overstuffed armchair in the corner next to the window. Thranduil hesitated, then crossed over to the bed, gingerly sitting on the edge of it.  
“Can I get you anything? Do you need anything?” he asked, his gentle voice full of concern.  
She shook her head, not meeting his gaze directly. “No…I’m ok,” she murmered.  
He breathed deeply. “Tora…” He trailed off, not sure what he was trying to say. She had been silent since the attack, with only a handful of words uttered in the last few hours. “Tora, please let me help you,” he pleaded, his eyes filling with tears. “I want you to know I’m here for you.”  
Her gaze swept in his direction, finally meeting with his. “I know,” she said.  
That was it.  
He waited for a few moments, but she didn’t say anything more, just turned her gaze back to look out of the window. His heart was aching as he quietly got up and left the room, closing the door softly behind him. Unsure what he should be doing, he rubbed his hands over his eyes and crashed into Legolas, who had just bounded up the steps.  
“Are you alright?” he asked, frowning in concern. “You can’t walk around with your hand over your eyes, you’ll crash into everything.”  
He placed his hands on his hips, looking past him at the wall.  
“Ok…that’s a troubled look if ever I saw one,” he observed. “How is she?”  
He shook his head. “Closed off. Completely closed off,” he replied with a soft sigh. “I’m not really sure what I should be doing, what I should be saying. It’s like she’s a stranger right now.”  
“She is,” he told him, speaking in a low tone in case he could be heard through the closed door. “I have been talking a lot to different people on this the last few days. She will be going through absolute hell right now. Blame, guilt, self-loathing…you name it, she will go through it in her mind as she comes to terms with this. In the meantime, expect her to shut you out…you’re a male, father,” he explained at his hurt look. “You might not pose a threat to her because you love her and you would never hurt her, but her mind is not thinking like that right now. She will be seeing everything with a penis as a threat. And who can blame her..? It’s just going to be a part of the healing process.”  
“She is hardly communicating,” Thranduil said, his gaze miles away.  
“It is early days yet,” Legolas replied. “Very early. Give her time. And patience. Lots of patience.”  
“I have all the time and patience in the world,” he said, his eyes brimming with tears. “I have as much as she needs.”


	23. Chapter 23

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

 

Aria tapped on the door, hesitating before she went in.  
“Hey...how are you, Tora?” she asked with a smile as she entered the room.   
Tora’s blue eyes met hers, telling a story of deep pain and anguish that she was losing the battle over.  
Aria crossed over to her and sank to her knees in front of her, wrapping her arms around her shoulders as she broke down in floods of tears. “Shhh, it’s going to be alright,” she whispered, rubbing her back as she sobbed.  
Tora cried and cried, feeling like there was no end to her tears, while her friend patiently held her. Pulling back, she dragged her hands down her face, lost and alone. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.   
“Stop that nonsense,” Aria scolded her gently. “That’s what I am here for. Get your chin up, and let’s face this together. Me and you.”  
Her bottom lip trembled. “I don’t know if I can,” she said in a voice so low, Aria had trouble hearing her. “I just don’t know.”  
The servant grabbed a chair and dragged it close, sitting down on it. “Why not?”  
She shrugged. “Everything feels so different now. I want it to go back to the way it used to be.”  
“It will, eventually,” she replied, after a moment’s silence. “But it’s going to take a lot of hard work. And perseverance.”  
Tora shook her head slightly, trying in vain to wipe her tears away. “I don’t have what it takes anymore.”  
“Yes you do sweetheart, and do you know why? Because the King is here with you, I’m here with you, and Legolas is here with you too. You have so much love and support around you right now, you have no choice but to get through this,” she stated. “You do not have any option. We are going to drag you through this by your ears if we have to, but you are coming out at the other end a stronger person…you understand?”  
Sad blue eyes stared back at her. “I love Thranduil so much Aria...he’s the centre of my life...but I’m terrified of him right now.” More tears.  
Aria could feel her own eyes misting over. She took hold of Tora’s hands, gripping them tight. “Listen to me,” she said. “What you are feeling right now is so normal, please understand that. I have done nothing but research this the last few days and nights, and it’s ok to feel like that. You know he would never hurt you but he’s male, so you see him as a danger. It will pass, I promise, it will pass.”  
Outside the door, Thranduil hesitated, his hand gripping the door handle. Hot, silent tears rolled down his cheeks as he leaned his forehead against the wood. He’d heard Tora admit she was scared of him, and it tore his heart out. All he wanted to do was help her and tell her how much he loved her, but she was closing him out.  
Turning away, he walked silently from the door.  
Inside, Aria was still gripping Tora’s hands. “The King and Legolas are tearing the palace apart trying to find out who did this,” she said. “I do not think whoever it was will get away with it for much longer, they are out for blood.”  
Tora held her gaze. “I know who did it,” she said quietly.  
Her friend’s eyes widened. “What? Who? Tora, does King Thranduil know? He is going out of his mind!”  
She shook her head, pulling her hands back. “No. Nobody knows.”  
“Why not? Tora...you have to tell him!” Aria gasped. “You cannot keep this to yourself!”  
“I can’t tell anybody,” she whispered, her eyes fixed at a point on the floor.   
“Why?”  
“Because Thranduil means everything to me,” she sobbed. “He threatened he would come back and kill him if I said anything!”  
Aria gazed at her in horror. “So not only has he managed to violate you physically, he is doing it emotionally as well?”  
“I have to keep him safe,” she cried.  
“Tora, please listen to me!” she begged. “You have to tell him! He will protect you, he won’t let him hurt you again!”  
“It’s not me I am worried about!” she insisted, her tears falling faster. “I can’t let anything happen to Thranduil, he doesn’t deserve any of this bullshit!”  
The two women stared at each other, one in terrible pain, the other desperate for a name.  
A long, drawn-out silence hovered over them.  
“It was the guard who put me in the dungeons,” she whispered eventually.  
Aria’s jaw dropped. “Him?! He was banished, weeks ago!” she gasped. “Are you sure?”  
Tora nodded. “He said that was an advantage of being a patrol guard, he could get in and out without anybody knowing,” she said. “He said Thranduil would never want to touch me by the time he’d finished with me.”  
“Oh no,” Aria cried, shaking her head. “He worships you. He adores you...and he’s desperate to help you through this.”  
Tora held her head in her hands. “I can’t let him near me Aria, I just can’t,” she cried. She trailed off, her shoulders heaving with the sobs that ripped through her.  
Aria scooted off the seat, kneeling on the floor in front of her and wrapping her arms around her. “You know he would never, ever hurt you in a million years,” she said. “He’s the most gentle, sensitive person in the world around you, and he’s hurting really bad for you. He wants to make this all better, make it go away.”  
Tora nodded. “I know…and I know he wouldn’t hurt me…it’s just so…God, I don’t know anymore. I’m so mixed up…” She trailed off again, holding on to her friend like she was a life source.   
*****  
Thranduil swirled the goblet of wine around in circles, watching the dark red liquid going round. It reminded him of his own life lately, just spinning round and round and round, with no signs of slowing down or stopping. Normally in complete control of his life, from places to times, events to dates, this was alien territory for him. This was an area where he wasn’t even included, never mind in control.  
He lifted his head, his body going still as his senses went onto full alert. His nose twitched, picking up the familiar scent of blueberry body lotion. He remained as still as a statue, hardly daring to blink or breathe. A few seconds dragged past, and he swallowed, nervousness gripping him.  
He jumped a little as he felt a hand at his back, a very shaky, hesitant hand that slowly slid around his waist and crossed over his stomach. Very, very slowly, he lifted his hand and placed it over the top, very lightly, only the briefest of touches.  
Taking a deep breath, he spoke. “Welcome back, my angel,” he said softly.  
Behind him, Tora closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against his back, hot tears spilling down her cheeks. She slid her other hand around him, locking her fingers across his stomach. “I’m sorry, Thranduil,” she whispered.  
Taking his time, he turned in her arms, sliding his hands under her jaw and tipping her head up to look at him. The pain he saw reflecting in her washed-out, bloodshot eyes cut through him. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he stared deep into her eyes.  
“Thranduil…I need you,” she said, breathing deeply. “I can’t do this by myself…”  
“I am here with you, baby,” he said softly, his thumbs caressing her cheeks. “I am always here, always will be. You are not doing this alone. I promise.”  
She gazed up at him, losing herself in his light blue eyes, eyes so filled with compassion, she knew within her heart that he’d always be there for her, and that true to his word, she wouldn’t have to go through this alone.  
Those blue eyes blinked, his gaze remaining steady. “Can I hold you?” he asked.  
She nodded, trying to halt the flow of tears as he pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. She snuggled closer, tightening her arms around him, breathing in the comforting, familiar scent of him, drawing in the warmth of his body, absorbing his inner strength. “I love you so much,” she mumbled into him.

“I love you so much more,” he replied, kissing the top of her head.  
*****  
Tora frowned, biting her bottom lip as she studied the book in front of her. The words seemed to blur in front of her eyes as she stared at them, trying to commit them to memory and make sense of them. Lifting her lead, she scribbled a few onto her paper, drawing small arrows between different words and their meanings.  
It had been Thranduil’s idea for her to do some translating from the ancient elvish texts. Tora had agreed, realising it would be a good idea to get absorbed into something that would help her concentration.   
“I am so bloody tired,” she muttered, closing the book. Circling a few words to remind her to go back to them later, she tossed her lead down and got up from the table. She braced her hands on either side of her neck and slowly rolled her head, loosening up stiff muscles and nerves. Picking up her goblet of wine, she noticed the huge crystal vase of roses sitting on the worktop. Deciding that they weren’t in a prominent position to be seen, she picked the heavy arrangement up and padded through to the centre of the room with it. She buried her nose amongst the petals, smiling to herself as she inhaled the strong perfume that only Mother Nature could create so beautifully.  
“Good morning, angel,” a velvet voice said behind her.  
She screamed, dropping the heavy crystal as terror grabbed her very soul and tried to drag it from her body. She whirled round, her face deathly white, as the glass smashed into a million pieces against the stone floor. Grabbing the back of the couch, she could feel herself starting to drop as her knees gave way beneath her.  
Strong arms grabbed her and dragged her back up before she hit the floor, steering her around to sit on the plush sofa. She found herself crushed against a warm, solid chest, a resounding heartbeat echoing in her ears as she shook in terror.  
“Breathe baby, breathe,” Thranduil urged her, rocking her from side to side. “Slow, deep breaths…come on, angel. Breathe in…breathe out. Breathe in…breathe out.”  
She gripped his red velvet cloak, her whole body trembling in fear as she struggled to regain her composure. Determined not to cry, she buried her face into him as she felt the first tears spill down her cheeks.  
“I am sorry angel, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said, holding her as tightly as he could with her injuries. “I am so sorry…”  
“Don’t be,” she gulped, dragging air into her lungs. “I’m just far too jumpy right now I guess.”  
He dropped a hand down and leaned over, inspecting her feet. “How in the name of God you didn’t get cut, I will never know,” he muttered.  
The crystal had shattered in every direction, even making him jump back as it had smashed with a heavy boom as it hit the floor. Somehow, Tora with her bare feet had managed to escape any cuts or even scratches.  
She concentrated on trying to stop the flow of fearful tears, eventually managing to bring herself back to a reasonable level of control.   
“Feel better?” he asked softly, gently rubbing comforting circles on her back.  
She nodded slightly, listening to the steady thump-thump of his heart through his chest. Regaining some composure, she pushed herself away so she could sit back a little.  
“I’m too jumpy, too sensitive,” she said. “Too much of everything right now.”  
He lovingly rubbed the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip, his eyes following the movement. “Maybe you are expecting too much too soon,” he suggested. “Time is supposed to be a great healer…so they say.”  
“They say that a lot,” she said, dropping her gaze to the floor.  
He tipped her chin back up, meeting her gaze once more. As she gazed into the depths of his eyes, a faint blush tinted his cheeks and he swallowed. She wondered what was going through his mind, and waited patiently.  
“Can…can I kiss you?” he whispered, swallowing his nerves.  
Tora froze.  
Visibly froze.  
Thranduil’s eyes changed, just slightly, but enough for her to notice. “It does not matter,” he said, looking away and pulling back.  
“Thranduil, no…” she said, the pain shooting through her heart taking her breath away. She reached for him, grabbing his hands and pulling them onto her lap. “I didn’t mean-”  
“It is alright,” he interrupted, not meeting her eyes. “I am pushing you too fast.”  
“No you’re not! You’re not, babe, I promise…it’s just…”  
He shook his head, tightening his fingers around hers, and looking at her. “I am rushing you, I do not mean to.”  
“Thranduil…I want you to kiss me,” she pleaded, tears filling her eyes. “I do!”  
Light blue eyes held hers, then he suddenly threw his head back, staring at the roof above them. After a few moments he looked back at her, and slowly leaned forward, brushing his lips against her cheek. “I love you, angel,” he whispered. “I love you so much.”  
“I love you too,” she cried, holding him tight. “I just want it to be normal again…”  
“And it will be,” he assured her. “I promise…it will be.”  
*****  
Thranduil watched Tora as she wandered down in the gardens, Aria at her side. He pursed his full lips as he watched her, her arms folded protectively across her torso.  
“Deep in thought?” Legolas asked, appearing at his shoulder. “How is she? Any better?”  
He shook his head. “Not that I can see,” he replied. “She is dragging herself from one day to the next, it is as though I am not here. I know she cannot help it, but she has totally shut me out.”  
Legolas exhaled through his nose, folding his arms. “I have noticed she will not stay in a room where males are,” he observed. “Aria is the only one she feels settled with, or the animals. Everyone is closed off, particularly adult males.”  
Thranduil nodded, aware of the ever-present ache in his heart. “Everybody says she will come through in time, yet she refuses to talk about what happened. I do not even know if she is speaking to Aria about it.”  
“She might be,” his son said.  
“I have heard that some females can never become intimate again after being attacked in such a way,” he said softly, his eyes still on her as she stopped to say something to her companion.  
“Could you live with that if that happens?” Legolas asked.  
Thranduil’s head whipped round and he glared at him. “Of course I could! Our relationship is about love, not sex,” he hissed. “It is about commitment, companionship-“  
“Alright, I was only asking, do not get upset,” Legolas said, holding his hands up.  
“I am not. I am stating a fact.”  
“Fair enough,” he said. “I am going out to the training grounds...do you need anything before I leave?”  
Thranduil shook his head, still watching Tora down below.  
His son patted his shoulder, and left him alone.


	24. Chapter 24

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

 

The stench of stale sweat and bad breath filled her senses. The weight on top of her was crushing her, and she struggled to breath under the bulk. A hand clamped over her mouth as she tried to scream, terrified as she felt her legs being forced apart. She tried to wriggle, to move, to shift the burden away from her, but she was pinned to the hard floor.  
A garbled scream ripped up from her gut as she felt an agonising pain; tears of fear poured down her face as she struggled to get away, the pain getting worse and worse as she felt herself being brutally violated. The air around her wouldn’t go into her lungs; she shook her head trying to get rid of the hand across her mouth, but it only clamped down harder. The pain down below was getting worse to the point where she felt she was being torn in two. The darkness around her started spinning as the oxygen flow lessened and became non-existent. A coldness seeped into her body as she realised there was a good chance she might not live after this. The heavy weight ground into her, each thrust hurting more than the last.  
*****  
Thranduil’s head whipped round and he moved at speed, tearing up the stone steps and hurtling along the passageway. A piercing scream echoed along the hallways, and he tore down the corridors as fast as he could. He threw open the study door, to find Tora hysterical.  
She had been reading in his study, and by the looks of things, had drifted off to sleep curled up in his chair. She was on her knees on the floor, books strewn all around her, shaking uncontrollably, crying and screaming.  
He was at her side in a split second, wrapping his arms around her and tucking her into his chest.  
“Baby…it’s ok, you were dreaming, sweetheart,” he said, rubbing her back and trying to soothe her. “I’m here angel, nothing is going to hurt you, I promise.”  
Her whole body shook violently as the sobs tore from her, and he struggled to maintain his strong grip on her. He lifted his head as Legolas dashed in the door, red-faced and breathless. He stopped dead at the sight before him, Tora curled into a ball in Thranduil’s lap, shaking and crying. His father in tears, panic etched on his face.  
He stepped forward, waiting for instruction.  
Thranduil shook his head, his arms getting tired with the effort of holding her steady.  
He hesitated, then slowly backed out of the room, pointing further down the passageway. He nodded his understanding, and buried his face into Tora’s hair.  
Half an hour later, Legolas lifted two cups, and padded back to the study with them. Knocking softly on the door, he slowly opened it a crack, peering inside.  
Thranduil beckoned him in with a tilt of his head.  
He stopped in the doorway, shaking his head slightly. Tora was sprawled out half on top of him, fast asleep. Her face was pale and puffy, her eyes red and swollen. His face was pale and tired, the worry still evident in his light blue eyes.  
“I brought you some tea,” he said softly, walking over to where they sat and setting the cups down. He sat carefully on the edge of the rug, rubbing his sleeping friend’s back gently. “Probably best not to wake her.”  
Thranduil nodded, reaching out for his cup. He picked it up and handed it to him.  
Silence reigned for a few minutes.  
“I do not know how much longer you can go on like this,” he said eventually. “This is taking its toll on you, father – you are not sleeping, you are not eating, you are not yourself.”  
“What else can I do?” Thranduil said sadly. “I have to be here and hope that she will eventually talk to me. I cannot turn my back.”  
“I am not suggesting you do,” his son replied. “But you need to start taking care of yourself. You will be no use to her if you make yourself ill.”  
“I am no use to her as it is,” his father said, his words soft and low.  
“Do not think like that,” Legolas said. “She will come around, it will just take time. Nobody but her knows what he did to her, she will have to come to terms with that before she will speak of it. Although I think that Aria seems to be making a little progress with her.”  
“Aria has reported nothing to me,” he sighed, leaning his head back against the bookcase behind him. His back was sore and his body was cramped from the weight of Tora sleeping on him, but he wouldn’t move her if his life depended on it. She needed him, and at that point, all he could do was hold her while she slept. “Days have turned into weeks. Her bruises and most of her injuries are healing, but still we are no closer than before. Still I cannot get her to turn to me.”  
A gentle knock at the door made both father and son look over.  
Aria stepped inside, with a small comforting smile. “I just wondered if anybody needed anything,” she said softly, so as not to wake her friend.  
“Just answers,” Thranduil replied heavily, looking away from her. His hand slowly rubbed Tora’s back in soft, gentle, reassuring movements.   
“Has she not said anything about what happened?” Legolas asked.   
Aria shook her head. “No more than she did the day she left the healing rooms,” she replied. “Although it did not seem to take any of the weight from her shoulders...the monster hates her beyond belief. I fear she cannot carry it for much longer.”  
Thranduil’s eyes narrowed. “Carry what?” he questioned.  
She blushed a light shade of pink. “The burden of what happened, my Lord,” she replied, a slight waver in her voice.  
He slanted a sideways look at his son.  
“Aria, there is more,” Legolas said, sitting forwards. “I know there is.”  
Thranduil continued to slowly rub her back.  
“No my Lords, there is nothing,” Aria insisted. Her cheeks were darker.  
“Do not lie to me,” Thranduil said softly, his words full of warning. “If you know anything about what happened, if Tora told you a single word that I should know about, you will tell me.”  
The servant swallowed nervously. “There is nothing.”  
Both men watched her intently.  
“I cannot tell you,” she eventually whispered, tears in her eyes. “It would kill her. She would kill me.”  
Thranduil felt like a bucket of ice cold water had been emptied over him. Tora had known all along who had raped her.   
Twice.  
Beaten her senseless and tossed her aside to die in agony.  
“My woman’s anger is not what you have to worry about,” he said softly, continuing his movements with his hand. Ice blue eyes filled with anger glared at Aria from his position on the floor. “Tell me what you know.”  
“My Lord, I cannot,” she cried quietly. “He threatened her, told her if she said anything he would come back and bring harm to yourself. She made me promise not to say a word. She begged me not to say anything.”  
“Tell me what you know,” he repeated. His hand stilled.  
She glanced at Legolas, looking for support of some kind, but got none. “She told me in confidence! She trusted me,” she said, distraught.  
“Give me a name,” Thranduil said quietly.  
“My Lord,” she pleaded.  
He stared at her in stony silence.  
She gasped, running her hands through her hair, looking for a way out of her predicament.  
“A name,” he said again.  
“May the gods forgive me,” she whispered. “It was the guard who put her in the dungeons when she first came to you.”  
Legolas leapt to his feet and left the room.  
Thranduil just stared at her, shocked. “He was banished from the realm, never to return,” he gasped.  
She nodded, wiping tears away as they flowed down her cheeks. “He told her that was a good thing about being a patrol guard, because he knew how to get in and out undetected.” She sniffed.  
Thranduil shook his head, tears filling his eyes. “Why could she not trust me enough to tell me?” he whispered.  
“It has nothing to do with trust, my Lord. She is trying to protect you,” she replied. “He said he would kill you.”  
He snorted in disgust, resuming rubbing Tora’s back. “Let him try, see how far he gets,” he muttered. Fury raged through his body. “He will suffer for this.”  
“Shall I take my leave, my Lord?” Aria asked hesitantly. She wanted to be clear of the room before Tora woke up and discovered she’d betrayed her confidence.  
“Yes. Go,” he said, absent-mindedly. His thoughts were on his love who lay sleeping on top of him.   
*****  
The weeks rolled past.  
Toraa’s injuries slowly healed, the physical ones anyway. Her bruised and battered body repaired itself and was soon back in peak form; strong, agile and back to top fitness.  
Mentally though, things weren’t improving. She still suffered frequent nightmares, didn’t have her full appetite back and had trouble relaxing. Thranduil was kept at arms’ length, and everybody else was kept even further back. The only person she allowed close was Aria.  
The only consolation for Thranduil was that she still slept in the same bed, albeit some distance from him. He spent many hours propped up on one elbow, watching her while she slept. Her nights were restless, tormented, and she seemed to be haunted in her dreams.  
Legolas and Aria did their best to comfort him, assuring him that they both felt she was making slight progress, and that things would eventually go back to normal. She had a mountain to climb, and that would take time. He didn’t see it. He felt her progress had reached a stand-still, and she was in a stalemate situation. Her eyes were filled with haunted images, horrors he couldn’t imagine, memories she tried desperately to forget.  
The guards, servants and staff noticed it too. Various servants came to see how she was, and she refused to see them. Thranduil offered his apologies, not sure what else he could do. They didn’t seem to mind though, promising to be there when she was ready to start mixing again.  
Legolas only went into the same room as her if Aria was with her, and didn’t fuss over her when he did. Conversations were short and sweet, and the atmosphere in the palace was strained. Everybody missed the screams, the yells, the laughter, the crashing and banging about as Tora used to charge through the place, causing chaos, riots and the odd mild uproar as she went.  
The palace seemed dead.  
*****  
Tora glanced over at Aria, aware of Thranduil and Legolas over on the edge of the room, keeping their distance and not crowding her. Her eyebrows came down in a frown as her friend looked away.  
“Are you alright?” she asked, laying her book flat on the table.  
“Yes,” Aria smiled brightly. “You?”  
“Maybe,” she replied, deep in thought, wondering what was picking at her suspicious mind.   
On the other side of the room, father and son remained in deep conversation.  
“What was that all about?” she asked a few minutes later, following the servant through to the other section of the room.  
“What was what about?” she asked. Again, too brightly.  
Tora raised an eyebrow. “You looked like a scared rabbit,” she said.  
“Can I get you some tea or something?” Aria asked, bustling around pretending to tidy things. Her eyes lifted at the silence that followed. Angry blue eyes stared back. “I am so sorry Tora...I had to tell the King,” she whispered.  
Tora dragged both her hands through her hair, breathing hard as the oxygen became hard to take in. “What the fuck did you do that for? Don’t you know the repercussions of this?”  
“I am really sorry,” she stressed. “I slipped up and mixed a few words up, he picked up on it and would not let it drop until I told him.”  
“My God…” Tora gasped, covering her eyes. “You don’t know what you’ve done…”  
“The King promised he’d take care of everything,” Aria said, reaching out and touching her arm. She flinched away.  
“I trusted you,” she spat, anger and fear competing for top spot in her emotions. “I trusted you with that, knowing his safety was at risk!”   
“You know the King when he sets his sights on something,” she defended herself. “He just would not let it go!”  
“How did you manage to let it out?” she asked, panic in her voice.  
“Baby, calm down,” Thranduil said, appearing behind her. “I had to find out.”  
She whirled round to face him. “No you didn’t!” she insisted. “If I had my way, you’d never have known.”  
He swallowed, the hurt clear in his light blue eyes.  
She shook her head, wiping tears away with the back of her hand, unable to cope with the pain she could see in him when she looked at him.  
Sensing this was turning into a heavy moment between the couple, Aria mumbled her excuses and slipped out of the room, followed by Legolas.  
Thranduil and Tora stood facing each other. She was breathing heavily as she fought to regain control, and he was silently watching her.  
“I didn’t want you to know,” she whispered after a silence that seemed to last a week. “He told me-”  
“I know what he told you,” he interrupted. “But I promise, you have nothing to worry about. Nothing.”  
“You don’t know what he’s capable of,” she told him.  
He frowned, taking her hands in his. “I do know, angel. Look at what he did to you! I would need to be blind not to see what he did.”  
“That was just to me,” she insisted. “What’s he going to do to you? He said he will kill you, Thranduil! Kill you!”  
“He will not get the chance,” he assured her. “Everyone has been hunting for him, and we will find him sooner or later.”  
She went deathly pale, and for a second he thought she was going down.  
He tossed etiquette aside and hauled her into his arms as her tears overflowed. “I’ll keep you safe angel, I promise from the bottom of my heart. He is not going to get to you or anyone you care about, understand?”  
She hesitated for a second or two, before sliding her arms around him, holding him as tightly as he was holding her. Her body trembled in his arms, fear and panic getting a tighter grip on her.  
Thranduil shhh’d softly in her ear, closing his eyes and burying his face in her hair. She meant the world to him, and it was breaking his heart in two to see her in so much distress. Feeling helpless, he simply held her, hoping she’d relax a little and trust him to take care of her.  
Gradually her body did relax a little, some of the stiffness and tension draining away. He felt the distinct change in her, and nuzzled her cheek.  
“I love you so much,” he whispered. “I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”  
She instinctively turned towards him slightly, not realising what she was looking for or what she was doing. A soft sigh left her lips as his mouth found hers, his warm flesh teasing hers with the briefest touch. Her arms slid up under his to cross over just below his shoulders. The feeling of his muscled form under her hands was something she’d missed without even realising it these past couple of months.  
The kiss deepened, as she absorbed his healing touch and the love that radiated from him. Her knees felt a little weak as his magic drifted through her senses, his unique smell making her feel dizzy. She angled her head slightly to allow him access as his tongue probed gently against her lips. A deep groan rumbled from the pit of his solar plexus as he tasted her, his arms tightening around her.  
“Oh baby…” he murmered, desire flooding through his veins at an alarming speed. His hands travelled up the way until he cupped her jaw with both hands, rubbing his thumbs along her cheeks.  
And then she felt it.  
Cold, sickening fear.  
Thranduil got the fright of his life as she wrenched violently away from him, gasping and panting, in a wild panic. He stumbled, the momentum of her shooting backwards sending him off-balance. “Angel, what did I do?” he gasped, trying to stop the room from spinning.  
She shook her head, tears rolling freely down her cheeks.  
“What?” he pushed, confused, hurt.  
“I can’t do this,” she cried, her breathing erratic. “I can’t do this!”  
“Do what? You do not have to do anything,” he said, stepping towards her.  
She backed off, her eyes dropping to the undeniable bulge in between his thighs.  
That’s when it hit him.  
What had freaked her out.  
He took a step back away from her, covering his mouth with his hands. “I’m so sorry sweetheart…I did not mean for you to be frightened…”  
Tears continued to flood. “Thranduil, I want to leave,” she stammered, finding it difficult to speak.  
His heart broke in his blue eyes, and he closed them briefly to try and shield the pain he felt. Stepping aside, he stood a good distance away from her, not wanting her to feel crowded in any way. “I would never make you do anything you did not want to,” he promised her. “Go get some air, take Aria out for a walk or something; we will talk when you feel like it.”  
“No Thranduil, you don’t understand,” she cried. “I want to leave here. You.”


	25. Chapter 25

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

 

Thranduil felt like someone had a hold of his heart and was squeezing and twisting it. The pain was unbearable. His large eyes were filled with more hurt and pain than he’d ever thought possible for a person to experience.  
“Don’t leave me Tora, please don’t,” he pleaded, starting to cry. He didn’t care.  
Tora looked away, shaking her head. “I can’t be here,” she whispered through her tears.  
“Then we can go away somewhere, just you and me,” he begged. “We do not have to be here.”  
“I don’t want to be with you,” she said, dragging her gaze back to him. “I cannot be with you.”  
“Why not? I would never hurt you my love, surely you know that..?”  
“It’s nothing to do with it,” she insisted. “I just want to be by myself. Away from here. From you. From my life as it is right now.”  
Thranduil gazed at her, a cold fear gripping his heart as he realised that she was not slipping away from him - she was probably already gone. “What have I done?” he asked, desperate to keep her with him. He’d do whatever she asked, whatever she wanted, anything in the world.  
“You haven’t done anything,” she told him, wiping tears away. “I’m just in a place right now where I can’t be, I can’t function, I can’t get to grips with things. I need to be alone.”  
He shook his head, trying to read her eyes. The spark that usually lived there had disappeared a long time ago. “You seemed fine until a few moments ago,” he said softly, watching every flicker, every emotion in her blue eyes. “What happened?”  
She didn’t answer.  
“The way I see it, we both started that kiss,” he said softly. “If that is what has upset you, I am sorry. I could not help reacting…baby, you have no idea how much you turn me on.”  
She visibly froze in front of his eyes.  
“But that does not mean I have to follow up on it. There has never been any pressure in the whole time we have been together - none that I am aware of anyway. And there never would be.”  
Tora bit her bottom lip, wishing she was dead rather than put him through this. He didn’t deserve it, any of it. She couldn’t look into his beautiful eyes, knowing they were her weak point and it would break her heart even more.  
What was left of it.  
He waited, silently watching her.  
She glanced at the door on the other side of the room, and he knew she was contemplating running out, probably calculating whether or not she could be out of the door by the time he reacted.  
“I will never hold you here against your will,” he whispered. “But I do not want you to go.”  
“There’s no need for me to be here,” she said, finally meeting his eyes, and wishing she hadn’t.  
“I do not follow,” he said, frowning slightly in confusion. “What do you mean, no need for you to be here? I do not understand.”  
“I’m no use to you,” she told him.  
He shook his head. “You are my woman, the love of my life! How can you say that?”  
“What’s the point of being your woman if you can’t touch me?” she cried, getting upset again. “Where’s the point in that? You tell me!”  
“Who says I cannot touch you?” he cried. “Ok, right now I cannot, but nobody knows what is in the future. Nobody knows how things are going to turn out –“  
“I’m damaged goods, Thranduil!” she shouted, tears pouring freely once more. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m dirty, I’m not clean anymore…that bastard took that away from me!”  
The shock registered on his face, and he was momentarily lost for words.  
“See? Even you don’t have a cure for that.”  
He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Nothing could have prepared him for that.  
She bent over, holding her head in her hands, totally lost and confused. Her whole world had crashed around her feet, and she hadn’t expected it. She hadn’t expected the attack to have had such a knock-on effect on everything around her. Everything from her relationship, her personal life, her work, her hobbies and interests, her self-esteem…everything had disintegrated and she’d been powerless to stop it.  
Thranduil watched in dismay as she sank to her knees on the stone floor, despair taking over. Unable to help himself, he closed the distance between them, gripping her upper arms and sitting her upright.  
“Tora…look at me,” he commanded, his tone stronger. “Look at me!”  
She groggily lifted her head, dragging her heavy gaze to meet his. The despair he saw in her eyes took the breath away from him.  
“I do not care WHAT you think, WHAT some damned idiot told you, or any of that bullshit,” he told her. “You are not dirty, you are not unclean, and no way are you damaged goods. I do not want to hear anything like that again, do you hear me? Nothing.“  
“But I am damaged,” she insisted in a half-hearted whisper. “Thranduil, I’m not yours anymore…somebody else has been there, do you know what I’m saying? I’m dirty now-”  
He shook his head. “No you are not,” he said. “I do not know why you think that, maybe through time you can help me understand. But you are wrong my love, you are so, so wrong. Let me prove it to you.”  
She swallowed, breathing heavily and unable to see through her tears. “I can’t, Thranduil,” she gasped. “I can’t…it’s so…I can’t have sex, Thranduil.”  
“And that does not matter,” he assured her. “If we never make love again, then I do not mind, as long as you are in my life I do not care. We can handle everything else baby, everything else can be dealt with through time. There is no hurry, no rush…we have the rest of our lives to deal with things.”  
She collapsed against him, his arms holding her tight and his body supporting her as her last ounce of strength ebbed away.  
“Please trust me Tora, please,” he begged. “I love you so much, I cannot be without you…”  
After a minute or two she lifted her head, sobbing so hard she couldn’t speak.  
“Ssshhh,” he soothed, wiping her tears away. “I need you..God, I need you…”  
She stared at him, unable to understand why he still wanted anything to do with her. Her eyes fluttered close as his lips gently rubbed against hers in the softest butterfly kiss ever.  
“Please let me help,” he begged, his deep eyes pleading with her. “I love you more than anyone in the world ever could…just give me a chance.”  
“You’ve nothing to prove,” she whispered, her throat hoarse and sore. “This isn’t something you should be punished for.”  
“So do not punish me by leaving me,” he said. “Let me be with you…let me help you heal, baby.”  
“I just feel you deserve better,” she said, lost in his eyes.  
“Let me be the judge of what I deserve,” he said. “And there is no better – trust me.”  
He touched his forehead to hers, his eyes staring deep into hers. The seconds ticked past and he suddenly angled his head, kissing her softly.  
“I love you,” she murmered.  
“I love you so much more,” he replied. “Always have, always will.”  
*****  
Thranduil leaned his head back against the couch, listening to the birds twittering outside the palace window. The sunlight was fading, the room gradually becoming cooler. He sat with his feet stretched out in front of him, legs apart, totally relaxed and at peace.  
Tora lay across the couch sound asleep, her head resting on the cushion he’d placed on his lower abdomen. He slowly teased his fingers through her hair as he listened, marvelling at the softness. Her features were relaxed as she slept, and he was grateful for that. She’d exhausted herself after crying her heart out earlier, draining all her demons and venting all her worries.  
Thoughts of the guard who’d attacked her drifted to his mind, and he sighed in annoyance, his calm demeanour shattered.  
Tora stirred, murmering softly and turning her head slightly so that his hand was resting on her cheek. She shifted, her eyebrows coming down into a frown as she tried to get comfortable. Something seemed to be bothering her in her sleep. She lifted her hand up, almost like she was searching for something, so he placed his hand in hers. Her fingers automatically closed around his, and he smiled as her body relaxed. He sensed a slight breakthrough, a tiny bit of progress. She must have shifted an obstacle in her mind when they’d talked and cried a few hours previously; since the attack she’d shunned most contact with him, and here she was looking for him as she slept.  
He tilted his head to one side, gazing at her. His lips curved into a smile as she slowly opened her eyes, blinking a few times as she focused on him.  
“Welcome back, sleepyhead,” he murmered.  
“What time is it?” she asked on a yawn.  
“It is after supper time,” he said, and grinned as her eyes grew huge. “You were so peaceful, I did not want to wake you. You were more settled than you have been in a long time.”  
“I feel so relaxed,” she said, stretching and settling against him. “I can’t remember the last time I felt like this…before it happened, I think.”  
Her eyes clouded over, and he knew instinctively she was back on the floor, fighting for her life. He ran his fingers through her hair, with the most loving smile she had seen in her life.  
“You will feel like this a whole lot more from now on,” he promised. “If I have to spend years dedicating myself to you feeling like that, then so be it.”  
She raised an eyebrow as she sat upright. “Life doesn’t stop for everybody else just because I’m going through something that’s too fucked up for anybody to understand. It’s up to me to deal with, and maybe it’s about time I realised that.”  
Perfect eyebrows frowned. “It is not up to you,” he contradicted. “It is up to me to support you and help you – that is my job as your future husband. And if you ever want to talk, about anything in the world, no matter how busy I am, come and find me.”  
Taking a deep breath, she nodded. “I know babe, and I’m sorry. I really am. I…God…”  
He tilted his head to one side. “You what?”  
“I just felt the kindest thing to do was to get away from you, let you start your life over again,” she said, looking away from his penetrating eyes.  
“You have said that before,” he recalled, remembering back to when she had thought she wasn’t good enough to marry him. “Why is it you think you know what is better for me than I do?”  
“I don’t, not really,” she replied, turning to meet his eyes once more. “I don’t know…maybe sometimes I feel this bullshit’s too much for anybody to cope with…and you don’t have a normal, conventional life, Thranduil. Your life is filled with stress, worry and hell knows what all else without me adding to it.”  
“But my life isn’t complete without you in it, angel, you should know that. I do not care what stresses and worries I have…if you are not with me, then it is not worth it. I can do anything when I am with you,” he told her.  
She turned away, feeling the familiar sting of tears burning her eyes, determined that for once she wasn’t going to give in and cry. There had been so many tears lately, she really didn’t want any more. “I just think sometimes that you deserve better.”  
He tipped her chin up, turning her back to face him, and searched her eyes. “Tora…I…God…I do not know the words…I need you so much baby, more than I could ever tell you.”  
She closed her eyes, leaning into him as he wrapped his arms around her.  
“Just promise me, my angel - promise me we will always be together,” he whispered, nuzzling her cheek. “Just promise me.”  
“I promise…I promise I’ll try my best to make you happy and-”  
He silenced her by swooping down and crushing her mouth with his own, with a determination to almost brand her as his own, to prove to her that she was all he thought about.  
Her breath left her with a soft sigh as his warm, full lips rubbed against hers, making her bones go weak and her insides quiver. She leaned her head back slightly, relaxing and enjoying the taste of him. Her senses took in every detail, from the taut muscles in his arms, the warm, minty taste of him, the hard, muscular planes of his back as she swept her hands up and down, the soft tickle of his long hair against her.  
“You do make me happy,” he whispered hoarsely, dragging his mouth from hers and pulling back to gaze at her.  
She stared back at him, her eyes glazed and heavy. “I just hope I do.”  
*****  
Tora pulled the horse to a halt, glancing around before she slid to the ground. Taking the reins in one hand and crossing the courtyard towards the stables, her eyes met Thranduil’s as he sat astride his horse.  
The fear was clear in the blue depths that gazed at him, before lowering to look elsewhere.  
His heart ached. He didn’t want her to be terrified at every turn, petrified to go outside one minute and too scared to stay inside the next. She had only agreed to go out for a ride with the promise that he wouldn’t leave her side, and he had stayed true to his word.  
Still sweeping her surroundings with a suspicious gaze, she led the horse inside the wooden enclosure, making sure he was settled before leaving him. She seemed to be on constant alert, watching for anything that might pose a threat.  
Swinging one long leg over his horse, Thranduil dismounted and handed the animal over to one of the stable hands, walking towards her. Holding out his hand, he stopped a few paces away, letting her go to him when she was comfortable. She reminded him of a skittish animal, trying to win back her trust and her confidence. Taking his hand, fearful eyes met his again, and he smiled reassuringly, before leading her unhurriedly into the palace.


	26. Chapter 26

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

 

Tora sat curled up on the couch, staring away into the distance. Aria pottered around behind her somewhere, quietly minding her own business.  
Legolas passed the open doorway, hesitating before entering the room. Catching the servant’s eye, he nodded in acknowledgement.  
“Hi,” he said, stopping a distance away from Tora. “How are you?”  
She managed a small smile. “Trying not to be scared of my own shadow,” she replied, twisting around to face him. “Have a seat. I don’t bite.”  
He hesitated a little, before deciding it was safe to do so as she had issued the invitation.   
“Listen,” she said, stopping with a frown as she worked out what she wanted to say. “I want to say thankyou, for everything you’ve done for me,” she decided. “And that I’m sorry.”  
He frowned in confusion. “No thanks are needed,” he said. “What are you apologising for?”  
She shrugged. “All the trouble I’ve put everyone through, particularly you and your father.”  
“Hey, stop that,” he said immediately. “He would go mad if he heard you talking like that. We are here to help you, nobody deserves what happened, least of all you. We will do all we can to fix everything, that is our oath. And we do not back down from our oaths.”  
“Nevertheless, you’ve been so supportive, putting up with me screaming and crying, nightmares, not eating, just being a pain-in-the-ass loner-“  
“Tora,” he interrupted. “No. Enough. We are family, and that is what families do for each other.”  
“Thankyou anyway,” she murmered. “I do not know where I would be without you.”  
“Where is my father anyway?” he asked, looking around the room.  
“He’s doing some sword practice,” she answered. “He’s been spending so much time with me, and not enough time on himself lately. I told him I needed some time to myself, just so he would go and do something of his choice, instead of babysitting me around the clock.”  
Legolas grinned. “I’m sure he would much rather be babysitting you, as you put it,” he told her, rising to his feet. “I am going out on patrol for the rest of the day. I shall probably see you this evening at some point.”  
“Be careful,” she said, and he grinned over his shoulder as he left the room.  
She sat for a few minutes, before reaching a decision. Swinging her feet down to the floor, she stood up. At Aria’s questioning look, she told her she was going to seek out Thranduil, and left her to what she was doing.  
The sound of clashing metal reached her ears as she slowly walked along to the huge practice hall, and she knew he was locked in battle with someone. Stopping in the doorway, she leaned her shoulder against the doorframe and watched the god before her do what he did best.  
He swirled and turned, his hair flowing around his back as he swung both swords rapidly, blocking his practice partner. His moves were graceful and athletic, almost sensual. She was surprised he could move so poetically being so tall, but he carried it off with a flair she had never seen anyone else have. Strong thighs carried him forwards, backwards and sideways as he shifted, long arms swishing the blades around with deadly accuracy.  
Sensing her presence, he halted his practice and turned to her, hardly breaking a sweat from his vigorous defence. Nodding to his companion, the guard dropped his sword to his side and left, giving her a brief nod as he passed.  
Thranduil placed one of his swords on the shelf, swishing the other back and forth a few times.  
She slowly crossed over to him, taking the heavy blade from him and inspecting it. “You do not need practice,” she murmered, running her finger down the flat edge of the steel.   
“Everybody needs to practice,” he replied with a smirk. He placed his hand over hers, guiding the sword into the sheath at his side.  
She lifted her eyes to his, her heart missing a beat as his light blue eyes gazed down into hers, holding her prisoner. He remained still, watching her, trying to read what was going on behind her eyes.   
She stepped a little closer, feeling the heat radiating from his body. Lifting her hands, she gently trailed the ends of his long hair through her fingertips, the softness soothing her.  
She felt her insides start to melt as she gazed up at him, the nearness of such a loving, protective warrior like a drug that she couldn’t get enough of.  
Her eyes fluttered closed as his lips descended towards hers, touching her with the briefest kiss. She opened them again as he pulled back, gazing into his eyes in question, unsure of her feelings or his. Blue eyes stared back at her, the depths of them pulling her in deeper and deeper. Swallowing her nerves, she waited, almost willing herself to have what it took to make the next move. She slowly tilted her face towards his, pressing her mouth against his. A deep groan tore from the back of his throat, every nerve-ending on full alert.  
He'd waited so long for her to come to him, it felt like he'd waited an eternity. Even though he knew she wouldn't want to go far, this was a start. A new, fresh beginning. Like they were starting all over again. Her hands slid up under his arms across his back, as her mouth opened under his. He gently probed with his tongue, unsure whether she would accept him or not. The floor seemed to tip up as she did, his heartbeat thudding in his ears so loud he was sure she could hear it. Her tongue danced shyly with his, hesitantly at first, then with more vigour as he encouraged her. His body tensed as he felt things changing, and he pulled away from her slightly, not wanting to scare her.  
She maintained her grip on him, moving with him as he pulled back, so she was still pressed up against him. His hands slid up to her shoulders and he gently pressed against her, pushing her back as slowly and carefully as he could.  
"What did I do?" she whispered, confusion in her eyes.  
Shaking his head, he cleared his throat. "Nothing, angel, you did not do anything," he said, sounding a little hoarse.  
She took a step back, and he knew instantly she was jumping to the wrong conclusions in her mind.  
"Tora, listen to me," he said, taking her hands in his. "I do not want you to have any regrets later. I want you to be sure what you are doing and when, do you understand what I mean?"  
She blinked. "No."  
He was momentarily taken aback. "I do not want you doing anything because you feel you should be...you do it when you want to, when you are ready. Do not think you have to go out of your way just because of me...God...this is not coming out right."  
He sighed, tipping his head back and staring at the ceiling above them. After a moment or two, Tora moved towards him again, pressing a gentle kiss on the soft skin just below his ear, exposed to her she lifted his hair over one shoulder. She let go of his other hand and moved hers up over his chest, pulling the edges of his tunic apart. Her mouth moved downwards, kissing and licking as she went, and he sank his teeth into his lower lip to keep from moaning aloud.  
"Tora...take your time baby..." he gasped, as her lips reached his throat. He grasped her shoulders and put space between them, his breathing uneven and his eyes glazed.  
She offered him a small smile. "I want my lover back," she whispered. "I miss him."  
His heart thundered in his chest as he gazed at her, reading the emotions that reflected in her blue eyes. Passion, love...and fear. "He has always been here," he replied. "And he always will be."  
"I want be with him," she murmered, her eyes pleading with him not to turn her away.  
He didn't think all the strength in the world would have been enough to turn her away. He'd yearned for her, ached to hold her in his arms, to take away all the pain, the horror and the hurt that she'd been through.  
Taking a deep breath, he took her hand, leading her out the practice hall. He led her up the stairs back up to ground-level, and further along to his chambers. He hesitated briefly as they reached the door of the bedroom they shared, so she reached around him and pushed the door open.  
"After you," she said softly, reading the question in his eyes.  
Inside the bedroom, she closed the door, making sure the lock clicked into place. For some reason the metallic sound of it sliding home reassured her frazzled nerves a little. Almost reminding her that this was time for her and Thranduil, nobody else. No demons, no ghosts, no nightmares.  
Just the two of them.  
Taking a deep breath, she slowly peeled his tunic back, pulling it down his arms. His toned, muscled chest came into view, tempting and teasing her further. Her hand ran up over him, tracing the contours of him.  
He dragged in a shaky breath, his eyes never leaving hers. He tipped her chin up and kissed her, his warm, full lips gently massaging hers. Very, very slowly, he undressed her, taking each garment off with painful unhurriedness and patience. She concentrated on his warm muscles underneath her squeezing fingers, his hot flesh under her searching hands, his perfect mouth creating chaos on hers. His clever tongue teasing hers. His breathing in her ear as he kissed his way down her neck, his strong hands pressing her groin against his. She felt his rock hard erection pressing against her, and froze for a second, but the fear soon left her. This man was crazy about her, would do anything for her, would re-align the planets for her - he'd never hurt her or inflict pain.  
She gasped as his lips closed around her nipple, licking gently and softly sucking her. Her hands involuntarily entangled themselves in his hair, holding him as close to her as she could get him. His mouth reduced her knees to jelly and her legs buckled under her, but he braced her weight against the edge of the bed and lowered her down, not breaking contact. He moved to her other breast, caressing that nipple as he had teased the other one. His hand replaced his mouth so both were getting attention, and she writhed under his touch.  
Soft, wet kisses covered her as he moved over her, tenderly dragging his full mouth over her heated flesh. His long hair trailed over her skin as he moved, creating an added sensuality and spiking her arousal. Warm, gentle hands caressed her, unhurried and leisurely in his exploration of her body.   
He gradually lifted himself back up so he was level with her, touching his mouth to hers as he gazed into her eyes. “How do you feel?” he whispered.  
“Like I want you so much,” she whispered back. “Like this is the first time all over again.”  
“If you are uncomfortable at all, just say, and we will stop,” he said softly, his lips brushing hers as he spoke. “ Promise?”  
She nodded, taking in a deep breath. “I promise,” she said.   
“You do not have to go through with this,” he reassured her, trailing his lips across her cheek towards her ear. “We can stop at any time.”  
“I know,” she replied, swallowing her fear, her hands absorbing the warmth of the strong muscles across the back of his shoulders.   
He kissed his way down the side of her neck, gently biting her and licking her flesh as he went. She closed her eyes and almost purred in pleasure.  
Lifting his head, he studied her. “Do you want to go on top?” he asked.   
She went still, considering his thoughtful question. “No,” she answered eventually. “I am not going to let what happened spoil what we have any longer.”  
His lips curved into a loving smile as he kissed her mouth. Somewhere along the way he’d disposed of his trousers, and she realised as he settled in between her legs that he was as naked as she was. He lifted one of her knees, settling her leg against his side, and held his weight on his elbows, staring deep into her eyes. He sensed her fear, her trepidation.  
Lowering his head, his mouth brushed against hers with an erotic softness, a teasing touch that made her gasp, parting her lips as she did so. His tongue swept along her bottom lip, silently seeking permission to go further. She opened her mouth wider, inviting him inside, and a soft sigh left her as she felt his tongue push in. He moved in slow, sensual motions, no hurry or haste, as he took his time exploring her mouth.  
Fire burned through his body; he wanted to thrust deep into her, but he knew whatever he did would decide how things were going to go between them. He knew she needed as much patience and time as he could give, and if he hurried her, he would hurt her.   
Her body tensed as she felt his erection press against her opening, her eyes opening and staring at him in fear.   
He instantly stopped, holding his hips still as he continued to kiss her. She dug her fingers into his upper arms, her heartbeat gaining speed and ferocity. Forcing herself to relax, she closed her eyes again and turned into his kiss.  
Very slowly, he nudged forwards a little, so that his tip was just inside her and no more. He felt her thighs tighten, then relax again, so he pushed a fraction more. This time, he felt the tremble that ran through her body, but she didn’t break his kiss. Waiting for a few seconds, he pushed in a little more.  
She reacted, tearing her mouth from his and panting heavily, tears in her eyes. He could see the terror in her, and slowly started to pull out of her again.  
“No!” she cried. “No...I need you...please help me...I’m scared...” Tears escaped as she battled with herself.  
“Tora, there is no pressure, my angel,” he whispered. “We do not have to do this.”  
“I want to,” she said brokenly. “I want to be with you again, I need to be with you again.”  
He inhaled deeply, interlocking his fingers through hers. “You lead me,” he said softly. “As much or as little as you want.”  
She tilted her head back, gasping as she tried to control her emotions. On her back with him in between her legs, the feeling of just the start of him pushing into her brought back the attack. She could almost feel the stone floor at her back, the searing pain as she had felt like she was being ripped apart. She breathed heavily, turning back to look at Thranduil, who waited patiently, as still as a statue. “Help me,” she begged in a whisper. “I love you so much...please help me.”  
His eyes filled with tears as he framed her face with his hands. "I'll do anything I can to help you, my love," he whispered, his mouth brushing hers as he spoke. "There is nothing in the world that means more to me than you do. I would walk through fire for you, do anything for you...you just turn my whole world upside down, angel..."  
She gasped as she realised he'd pushed all the way in while he'd been talking and teasing her lips with his, and was buried deep inside her. Her eyes grew large as it dawned on her, and her body relaxed completely.  
He smiled, a tender, loving smile that made her insides melt. With soft kisses, he slowly began to move inside her, coaxing her body to respond to him and move with him. His fingers flexed around hers as he strengthened the bond between them, his soft, warm mouth rubbing erotically against hers. “Trust me, my love,” he whispered.   
“I do trust you,” she whispered back against his mouth. “I trust you with all my heart.”  
His skilful mouth took her to levels she had forgotten existed, his hips slowly pumping into her. She lifted both feet and crossed them over his lower back, her heels resting on the curve of his buttocks. Arching her back, she moaned as he moved, pushing deeper with each thrust, her senses flooding with euphoria that only he could make her feel. Her hands left his and trailed down his sides, sweeping across his back, holding him tightly against her. He framed her face with both hands, holding her still as he kissed her deeply, his tongue dancing an erotic dance with hers that sent his blood pressure through the roof. He twisted and turned his head, deepening the kiss even further as her hands tangled in his long hair.  
“You make me feel so good baby, so damned good,” he whispered, the wet heat of her clenched around him pushing the boundaries of his control. He groaned deep in his throat as she kissed him hungrily, demanding in her touch. Her hips lifted to meet his as he thrust into her, her body reacting to his in the way it used to.   
“I think I’m going to come,” she murmered against the softness of his mouth.  
He changed the angle of his thrusts, causing her to buck harder against him. “Your wish is my command, my love,” he whispered, holding her steady for his mouth to devour her as his hips moved in a steady, intoxicating rhythm. They kissed each other with mounting desperation, the hunger raging between them. Their movements became faster, the pleasure building and growing.  
Tora whimpered with need, clinging to him and moving with him. The tension between them mounted, the flames of passion blazed higher. She gripped his hands as she arched her back, squeezing his fingers as her body tensed and tightened.   
She erupted around him with a howl, her muscles clenching tightly as she flooded him. He lowered his head to her shoulder, biting her neck as he thrust harder into her orgasm, desperate for his own release. It roared up and flashed through his entire body with the force of a raging thunderstorm, leaving him shaken and disorientated. Collapsing breathlessly onto her, he rolled to the side taking her with him. His chest heaved as he panted for air, his heartbeat pounding like a stampede. He lifted her hair away from her face, rubbing the pad of his thumb along her lower lip.  
“Are you still with me?” he asked, his eyes searching hers.  
She opened her eyes, taking a second or two to focus on him. “Yes,” she said with a soft smile. “I’m still with you. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”


	27. Chapter 27

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

 

Tora’s nose twitched, and she frowned in her sleep, rolling over and burying her face in the soft feather pillow. Again, something tickled her nose and she rubbed it, not waking up.  
Thranduil grinned, leaning over her once more. The ends of his long hair brushed against her cheek, and she squirmed again. He moved his head slightly, the hair tickling her ear.  
“What the fuck..?” she snarled, flipping over onto her back.  
He started to laugh. “Sorry angel, it was too cute to resist,” he said.  
Her features softened as she gazed up into his light blue eyes. “Good morning,” she said huskily.  
He leaned down, touching his warm mouth to hers. “Good morning, gorgeous,” he murmered. “How do you feel this morning?”  
She shifted slightly. “A little sore,” she admitted. “Burning a little.”  
He frowned, lifting his hand and moving her hair away from her face. “I am sorry my darling, I tried so hard to be gentle with you,” he said softly.  
“You were,” she replied. “It isn’t your fault. Remember...I haven’t let you near me in at least two months.”  
His frown deepened. “But you still should not be in pain,” he said. “How about a hot bath? That might help.”  
She nodded, dragging herself up into a sitting position. “That sounds like a good idea,” she said on a yawn. “Damn...I’m still tired, and I slept the sleep of the dead.”  
He smiled. “You needed it, my love,” he told her. “Shall I have breakfast brought in here for you?”  
“No,” she said, swinging her legs out of the bed. “I need to get up and about. It’s a new day babe, I want to make the most of it.”  
He lightly trailed his hand down the curve of her back as she stood, resting it on the upper swell of her buttocks. “What do you have planned?” he asked.  
“I’m not sure, yet,” she replied, stepping over her clothing which lay discarded on the floor. His eyes followed her naked form as she walked towards the sunken bathing pool. “I guess I would like to work with you today, depending on what you’re doing.”  
He stood, following her, shedding his cloak from his shoulders. She turned as she heard the soft rustle of the fabric hitting the floor, lifting her eyes to his. “I rather wish to share a bath with you,” he said, his voice low.  
She smiled, holding her hand out to him, which he took. “I would like that,” she said. He kissed her hand before dropping it, turning to prepare the water while she twisted her long hair up into a knot on the top of her head. Bubbles floated on the surface as he added perfumed oil, swirling the water to distribute the fragrance throughout. He took her hand and helped her step down into the water, then shed his clothing and slid in behind her.  
“This is the life,” she murmered, closing her eyes as she relaxed back against him, his strong arms crossed over her abdomen. “I could stay like this all day.”  
“Then we can, if that is what you wish,” he replied. He pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder. “Everything else can wait.”  
She laughed. “No it can’t. You have a kingdom to rule,” she said. “You won’t get much ruling done from here.”  
“Maybe not,” he agreed. “But it would be much more pleasurable, sitting here with you in my arms.”  
“Pleasurable, but not productive,” she said. “Can you hand me the soap, please?”  
He handed the bar to her, and she quickly washed herself, before turning to him. “Your turn.”  
He lifted his arms like a child, resisting the urge to laugh as she started to giggle, sweeping the soap over his muscles and down his torso. Splashing water up over him, she hauled him around so she could do his back.  
“You are worse than me, sometimes,” she told him, replacing the soap and resting her chin on his bare shoulder. Inhaling deeply, the intoxicating scent of him filled her senses.  
“I seriously doubt that,” he said, turning so she had a view of his profile. “You are full of mischief.”  
“I am not,” she laughed. “Come on, my devastatingly-handsome King...I’m starting to get hungry.”  
She reached back to grab the towel, but he put his hand out and stopped her, standing up and stepping out onto the floor. She watched him, puzzled, as he lifted the towel and opened it out for her to step into. He took her hand as she did so, guiding her out of the pool and into the warmth of the fluffy towel, wrapping it around her and pulling her close to his body.  
“I love you,” he whispered, kissing her mouth.  
“I love you too,” she murmered back. Gazing into his eyes, she felt such a deep connection that it sent shocks through her bloodstream.  
Shortly afterwards, they were dried and dressed, and seated in the dining hall having breakfast.  
“I um...” she started, breaking off as she pushed pieces of peach around her bowl.  
He glanced at her. “What?”  
She put her spoon down, folding her hands on the table in front of her. “I wanted to say I’m sorry,” she said, after deciding how to word what was on her mind.  
He frowned, resting his elbows on the table and steepling his fingers. “For what?”  
She sighed. “For everything,” she said. “For the way I’ve behaved lately, for the way I’ve treated you, for shutting you out, for-“  
He moved with the speed of a panther, lifting his weight from his seat and crushing her mouth under his, his actions taking her by surprise. “I do not want to hear such nonsense,” he said, pulling back just a fraction so his mouth brushed hers as he spoke. “Do you understand me? No more, Tora. No more.”  
She blinked as he sat back down again, hurt that she had angered him.  
His light blue eyes met hers, and he shook his head. “No my love, I am not angry with you,” he said, as if he could read her mind. “I am angry at the way you are thinking, like everything was your fault. Nothing was your fault, and you have not acted in an unreasonable way.”  
“But-“  
“But nothing,” he interrupted. He reached over and took her hand in his, his grip tight and reassuring. “Tora, what happened to you was the most horrific way to attack a female. You did not deserve that, and if anything I feel guilt because I was not there to prevent it. There were times I thought I had lost you forever, but yet again you have proven yourself to be strong and resilient, and I am so proud of you. Do not ever feel bad about what happened my love, there is no basis for you to feel like that.”  
She flexed her fingers in his, absorbing the strength that flowed from him. “Maybe I didn’t deserve what happened, but neither did you,” she said, staring at their hands.  
“I am none the worse,” he told her. “My concern is with you, making sure you heal, making sure you are safe, making sure you have everything you need. The attack did not happen to me physically my angel, the emotional side of it I will deal with in my own time, in my own way.”  
Light blue eyes held hers, breaking their gaze only because Legolas bounded into the hall and hopped over the back of a chair, crashing down onto it with no finesse whatsoever. “Morning all,” he chirped, helping himself to a cup of hot tea. “I assume this is the remorse talk that should not even be thought about?”  
His eyes met Tora’s, his eyebrows raised in question.  
She rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a small smile.  
“We had this discussion yesterday,” he explained to his father. “And I told her then that she had no need to apologise or feel bad.”  
“You two are as bad as each other,” she muttered. “I know it hasn’t been easy for anybody lately.”  
“And I told you, this is what families do...we support one another,” Legolas replied. “Are you going to eat that toast?”  
Thranduil looked at the roof as he slid his plate over. “Did you not have breakfast earlier?” he asked.  
“About three hours ago,” he replied through a mouthful of toast. “Good grief, it’s almost lunchtime. And while I remember, the scouts have reached Erebor and Lake Town,” he added. “If that monster is hiding anywhere near there, we will soon hear of it.”  
Tora tensed slightly, enough for Thranduil to squeeze her fingers reassuringly.  
“And I have enough patience to wait until hell freezes over,” he said, lifting his cup with his free hand. “His time will come.”  
“How do you want to deal with him, when we find him?” Legolas asked, stuffing his face as he talked.  
“If you find him,” Tora said quietly.  
“We will,” Thranduil told her. “I promise, we will.” Turning back to his son, he shrugged. “He dies. It is that simple.”  
Tora shook her head slightly, marvelling at how calmly he had said it, almost like he was saying what day of the week it was. The difference between Thranduil the King and Thranduil her lover was like night and day.  
“Granted, that needed no explanation,” Legolas mumbled through his toast. “I meant do you want him alive, or killed on the spot?”  
Thranduil picked up a slice of peach with his fingers, holding it out to Tora and prompting her to take it, before casting his gaze back at him. “Either or. Personally I would prefer to deal with him myself, but if it needs to be that someone else takes care of him, then so be it. I want a body though...I want the proof that he no longer breathes.”  
Tora wriggled slightly. “This is making me rather uncomfortable,” she said. “You’re talking like life has no meaning.”  
Thranduil frowned. “His has none,” he told her. “No being, elf, dwarf, human, or otherwise, gets to do what he did and keeps his head on his shoulders.”  
“He is right,” Legolas put in. “Do not worry yourself Tora, we will deal with this.”  
“Unless you wish to carry out the punishment yourself,” Thranduil offered.  
“No thankyou,” she said quickly. “I do not ever want to see him again, or think of him again.”  
“Then you shall not have to,” he said decidedly. “Legolas, how is the border patrol managing with reinforcements?”  
The talk turned to realm matters, and Tora drifted off into her own world, still holding onto her lover’s hand.  
*****  
For most of the day, Tora didn’t leave Thranduil’s side. Or rather, he didn’t leave hers. Anywhere either had to go, the other went alongside. Constant holding hands, soft murmered words, gentle kisses here and there all served to strengthen the bond between them which had faced being torn apart forever.  
Tora felt like she was almost back to her old self again, and others around her noticed it too. Guards and servants were permitted to be within her space, and she talked to them as though nothing had happened. Aria was delighted with her mistress’s change, knowing something pivotal had occurred between her and the King in the darkness of the night.  
“You have a certain glow about you today, Tora,” she commented as she folded clean bedlinen.  
Tora glanced over at her, noticing the sparkle in her eyes. “Which is?” she asked, a touch of dry humour in her tone.  
“Far be it from me to say, m’lady,” the servant giggled. “But it suits you.”  
Tora’s gaze drifted over to Thranduil, who was stood leaning against the window ledge, strong arms folded over his chest, deep in conversation with the captain of the guard. He glanced over at her, as though he knew he was being watched, and gave her a faint smile before turning his attention back to the captain.  
Aria watched the exchange, a knowing smile on her lips. “Oh yes...definitely,” she murmered.  
“Definitely what?” Tora asked with a laugh. “I am so not getting into this discussion.”  
Thranduil moving suddenly caught her eye, and she glanced back in his direction.  
“I want the patrols doubled on our borders,” he snapped. “Nothing moves without I hear of it. No-one enters this kingdom...” his eyes met hers “...and no-one leaves it.”  
She blinked, wondering what had annoyed him as he stormed out of the room. The captain gave an apologetic shrug and made to follow him, but Tora grabbed his arm as he went past.  
“What was that all about?” she asked.  
“There have been rumours, m’lady-“  
“Get out here now!” Thranduil yelled from the passageway. His massive form filled the doorway. “If I want you to divulge idle gossip, I will give you permission. Otherwise, keep your observations to yourself and do your job.”  
“Yes, my Lord,” the captain said, and ducked past him.  
Angry blue eyes met hers, and he turned and disappeared.  
Tora looked at Aria, who was watching with her eyebrows raised. She looked at her, shaking her head. “I too wonder what happened there,” she said. “Whatever it was, it did not sound good.”  
“No, it did not,” Tora agreed thoughtfully. She shrugged. “Whatever it is, I’m sure he will deal with it.”  
Aria stopped what she was doing. “May I speak my thoughts? As a friend?” she asked.  
“Of course you can,” Tora said. “You know you can.”  
The servant sighed softly. “I do not understand,” she said, lowering herself onto a seat across from her mistress. “The King is well known for his temper, for showing no mercy when he is angry. People fear him for miles around. Yet somehow...when you are around, he is a completely different person.” A sense of wonder filled her voice. “It is impossible to put into words, like he becomes someone else entirely. No-one can believe their eyes the difference in him since you arrived.”  
Tora smiled, picking at the edge of a page in the book she had been reading. “The ruler and the lover are two different people,” she said softly. “There is nothing more to it.”  
Aria smiled. “You are so lucky Tora, so lucky. No-one has been able to melt the King’s heart in centuries, and you managed it within days. Everyone could see it.”  
“He is not a bad person,” she told her friend.  
“No, he isn’t. But people are terrified of him,” Aria said. “You speak your mind and say whatever you feel, others would not dare even think of doing that. The King lets you away with murder.” She laughed.  
Tora grinned. “Not quite. But yes, the relationship I have with him is different because we are in love. I dare say I can still rile him though. Remember I was bodily lifted and carried out of the kitchens..?”  
Aria threw her head back and roared with laughter. “Rangol told me about that,” she laughed. “I wish I had been there to see it!”  
Tora grinned, taking a sip of wine. “I actually thought I was in so much shit, but he calmed down. He was just worried, and angry because I’d gone against his wishes.”  
Aria’s eyes softened. “The King is crazy about you,” she said. “He would do anything for you. It’s beautiful.”  
“Thankyou,” she replied, genuine emotion in her voice. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him either, Aria. He means the world to me. He _is _my world.”  
Her gaze drifted off, wondering what he had seemed so annoyed about.__


	28. Chapter 28

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

 

Tora padded along the corridors, perplexed. Thranduil was nowhere to be found, and she wondered if something was seriously wrong. Very few guards seemed to be around, and she wandered the length and breadth of the palace seeing hardly anyone.  
The soft fabric of her long skirts swished around her ankles as she walked, the beautiful peach cloth as soft as peach skin itself. She paused as she approached the doors leading to the throne room, wondering if he was in there.  
Doubting it but deciding to have a look anyway, she pushed the heavy door open and slid inside, closing it behind her with a soft click. The raised path stretched out before her, curving and twisting on the way up into the heavens almost. Gathering a handful of her skirts so she didn’t trip, she started the ascent, following the path upwards.  
She stopped, taking a deep breath.  
Thranduil sat up on his throne, silent, staring off into the distance. He looked lost and alone.  
Shaking her head in concern, she continued forwards, coming to a halt again at the bottom step. Time ticked past, and she waited.  
Eventually he turned his head, his eyes going wide as he noticed finally noticed her. Lifting a hand, he beckoned for her to approach, so she climbed the steps, not taking her eyes off him.  
She stopped again at his feet, watching him, waiting for him to say something. Sad blue eyes held hers for a few moments, then he held his arms out.  
She climbed onto his lap, her thighs astride his, her arms around his neck as she hugged him tightly. “What’s wrong, my love?” she whispered. She kissed the top of his head, inhaling the scent of his hair.  
He didn’t answer at first, just held her in a tight hold, a slight tremble in his body. Eventually he pulled back so he could look at her. She framed his face with her hands, waiting for him to speak when he was ready.  
“The guard who attacked you,” he whispered, anguish in his eyes. “He has been seen heading towards Mirkwood.”  
Her blood took a slight chill, but she fought hard not to show it. “I have no doubt he will be picked up before he can get anywhere near here,” she said. “I know what you are worrying about, and surely there is no need.”  
“There is every need,” he said. “He will not get near you again, my angel. Never.”  
She smiled sadly. “It’s funny how we’re both worried about completely different things,” she said, running her thumb along his bottom lip. “You’re worried he comes after me again, I’m worried he’ll carry out his threat and get to you.”  
“He will get to neither of us,” he said. “The kingdom is on lockdown from now on, until he is dead. I will do anything it takes to protect you.”  
She tipped his chin up and pressed a soft kiss on his mouth. “And I will do whatever I can to keep you safe,” she whispered. His warm hands slowly rubbed up and down her back, bringing her a strong sense of peace and comfort. “If we are on lockdown, nothing will happen.”  
He shrugged, and she noticed the shadows under his eyes.  
“You are stressing too much,” she said. “And it’s showing. Let your guards do what they do best, and try to relax a little.”  
He grunted, burying his face against her neck and tightening his hold on her.  
“If anyone comes in, they’ll think we’re doing it up here,” she said with a soft laugh.  
His hands drifted down to her hips, rocking her against him. “Is that a suggestion, my love?” he murmered against her skin.  
“No,” she laughed. “But I know how it would look.”  
He moved his head, using his nose to nuzzle into her cleavage and pressing soft wet kisses there. “Are you sure I can’t convince you?”  
“No way, I do not wish for anyone to catch us,” she giggled. “It’s getting pretty late...why don’t we settle down for the night?” She pulled his head away from her and gazed into his eyes, which showed signs of fatigue and worry. “A good night’s sleep will do you the world of good.”  
“Maybe,” he sighed. “I suppose a hot bath and a glass of wine would do no harm...if you will join me?”  
“I can’t think of anything else I’d rather be doing,” she smiled, reluctantly climbing off his legs.  
He grumbled as he stood, adjusting himself. “See what you do to me, woman? You are a menace,” he muttered.  
She grinned, taking his hand and turning to lead the way down the steps, but he stopped her.  
“I shall go first,” he said. “I do not wish for you to fall.”  
Touched by his thoughtfulness, she stood up on her toes and gave him a gentle kiss. “Then lead the way, my King,” she murmered.  
*****  
Thranduil watched her as she dried herself after exiting the bathing pool, sprawled out on the bed with his head propped up on one hand. “Have I ever told you that you have the most amazing body?” he murmered.  
She glanced over, the candles reflecting in her eyes. “No, I don’t think you’ve been drunk enough,” she quipped.  
His eyebrows came down in a scowl. “That is not funny,” he said.  
She laughed. “Yes it is. You need to lighten up a little. You see me in a way that I do not, therefore I cannot share the same opinions.”  
“Nonsense,” he grumbled, rolling onto his back. “If I say you have a body that would bring an entire army of soldiers to their knees, then you do. I am the King, and what I say goes.”  
She burst out laughing, and heard him laugh with her. “You are clearly insane,” she mused, throwing the damp towel over the back of a chair as she padded over to the bed.  
Blue eyes watched her in the flickering light. “Come here and I will show you how insane I am,” he dared her.  
A grin spread over her face. “And just what did you have in mind?” she asked, sliding onto the bed on her knees beside him.  
A warm hand trailed down her side, coming to a stop on her hip. “I know that you will still be tender after last night,” he said. “But there are others ways I can worship you.”  
Heat touched her cheeks as she held his gaze, thinking that she couldn’t wait to see what he had in mind.  
He took her hand in one of his. “Sit up here,” he said softly, and used his other hand to guide her hip. He settled her across his chest, with her thighs on either side of his torso so that her back was to him. “A little higher...I cannot reach you from here.”  
She bit down on her bottom lip as she wriggled backwards a little, resting her upper body on his abdomen. Behind her, he adjusted the pillow and made himself comfortable.  
“Perfect,” he said, leaning forward and brushing his lips across her inner thigh.  
She closed her eyes, the sensation sending sparks through her at that simple, brief touch. Another light kiss followed, higher up, then another. With a smile, she trailed her fingers up his thighs, and his hips shifted below her in silent encouragement. His erection was already at attention, twitching impatiently for her touch. She slowly wrapped her hand around it, and heard a muffled exclamation behind her.  
Her head dropped and she gasped as his tongue slowly licked her, swirling around and exploring her before swiping across her clitoris. Her grip on his erection tightened fractionally as she started to move her hand, caressing up and down the velvet-coated steel.  
His hands caressed her buttocks and slid down in between, holding her open as he licked her some more. Her breathing turned to pants, and she flexed her thighs as the pleasure mounted.  
This wasn’t going to take long.  
Lowering her head, she swirled her tongue around his tip, tasting the salty fluid leaking from him. His thighs tensed and relaxed, and she smiled to herself in smug satisfaction before doing it again. His mouth continued to tease her, kissing, licking, and sucking in between her spread thighs. She fought to keep still as he focused on pleasuring her, his tongue creating allsorts of magic that she was sure nobody else in the world had ever felt. Sucking him deep into her mouth, her hand tightened around him a little more as she moved, making him groan, the vibrations rumbling through her sensitive area. Unable to stop herself, her hips pushed back further, silently begging him for more.  
“Do you like this, my love?” he whispered, in between soft kisses and sweeps of his tongue.  
“Yes,” she gasped, sliding his length out of her mouth as she fought to breathe. “Oh my God...yes...”  
His fingers dug into her thighs as he pulled her even closer, the tender butterfly kisses gone from his touch. His mouth worked insistently, focused not on teasing anymore, but on bringing her to a screaming climax.  
She continued to pleasure him, her grip like steel around him as she worked up and down in rhythm with her mouth. Deep groans and muttered curses met her ears, making her smile. He wasn’t the only one with a clever mouth.  
A pleading whimper sounded from her as she felt him pushing his tongue inside her, before sweeping back to her clitoris.  
“So fucking wet,” he murmered. “And all mine.”  
Her back arched as shock waves vibrated through her lower body, cascading along her legs and back to meet at her clit, which he circled and sucked with increasing passion. “Oh fuck...that feels _sooooo _good,” she moaned, gasping and panting. “More baby, more.”__  
His grip on her tightened, and he twitched in her hand as he became more aroused with her little twitches and wriggles as she came close to falling apart. He thrust upwards into her grip, rocking his hips into her hand and her mouth. Euphoria washed over him in waves as she took him deep, and he wriggled on the bed trying to get even deeper. “Oh baby...yessss...” he hissed, gasping for air. “Like that...yessss...”  
Her hand moved faster, her free hand sliding down his thigh to caress his sac, squeezing and rubbing it gently. He moaned loudly, his body moving without his consent or control. His thighs spread of their own accord, the muscles across his stomach tightening and tensing. The beginnings of a massive orgasm were creeping up on him, and he fought to keep it at bay until Tora peaked.  
Sliding his foreskin back, she swept her tongue around the crease, circling around the circumference of him before sliding him back into her mouth. A strangled cry ripped itself from her throat as his tongue rubbed harder against her clit, rapidly sweeping around it and sucking hard.  
“Oh my God Thranduil, I’m going to come,” she cried, bucking her hips back against his mouth. “Holy fuck...I’m coming..!”  
She broke off in scream as her whole body seemed to explode with the force of her climax, every cell within her bursting wide open. She writhed and wriggled as she cried in passion, his forearms tightening over her lower back as he fought to hold her still. Taking him back in her mouth, her hands worked faster up and down his length as a deep howl vibrated from his stomach, his hot liquid hitting the back of her throat. His hips jerked and lifted as he spurted his release, his mouth still taking her through her almighty orgasm.  
Exhausted, she collapsed her weight onto him, panting as she rested her head against his right thigh. His hand came down and lovingly caressed her hair as he panted for breath behind her. The room seemed to spin around her, as she swallowed and tried to calm the pounding of her heart.  
After a few minutes, she started to giggle. “I don’t think I can move,” she laughed. “Shit...I’m stuck!”  
She felt the laughter rumble through him. “And what a position to be stuck in,” he murmered, rubbing his free hand up and down her back. “The most stunning view in middle earth.”  
She snorted, finally heaving herself forward and lifting her leg over him to collapse at his side. Light blue eyes held hers as she lay with her cheek on his shoulder.  
“I love you,” he murmered.  
“I love you too,” she replied with a smile. “You look more relaxed now.”  
A smile tugged at his full mouth. “I’m worn out,” he replied. “Somehow I do not think sleep will be a problem for either of us tonight.”  
“No,” she agreed, trailing light circles on his chest. A yawn followed, and she snuggled closer. He slid his arm around her shoulders, tugging her so she was pressed tightly against him, and within a few minutes both had drifted off into a peaceful sleep.  
*****  
Tora stormed through to Thranduil’s study, throwing the door open without even knocking. He looked up, taken aback by the sudden intrusion.  
“What’s happened to Aria?” she demanded, planting her fists on her hips.  
He sat back in his seat, annoyed at the way she presented herself. “She displeased me,” he replied. “I have put her onto laundry duty until she sees the error of her ways.”  
Her eyebrows lifted. “That’s it? What did she do?”  
He sighed, putting down the quill he had been using. “I gave her instructions that I wanted my grey cloak before this morning. She was in charge of laundering it and getting it back to me.”  
“And?”  
“It came back this morning, with a very large hole in the back of it,” he said.  
“So you send her down to do the shittiest job in the palace for a mistake?” she asked. “That’s not fair.”  
He glared at her. “I will remind you that my word is final,” he said quietly.  
She folded her arms, returning his glare. “I will remind you that you assigned her to me,” she shot back. “I have needed her these last months, you can’t take her away from me now.”  
“I can do as I wish,” he replied. “Besides, I have assigned another servant to you.”  
“Oh I know,” she snapped. “One who is as useful as a bow without any arrows. She’s useless. I want Aria back.”  
They both glared at each other.  
“No,” he said. “I have made my decision.”  
She tapped her foot impatiently. “I don’t want anyone else,” she said.  
“Fine. Do without.” He turned his attention back to what he had been doing.  
“You’re being a complete asshole,” she muttered angrily, storming out of the study.  
“Tora!” he shouted. “Tora, come back here!”  
She ignored him, furious at his attitude.  
Fine, he was the King and the be-all-and-end-all. But she had depended on her friend through recent times, and didn’t want to see her thrown into a horrible job for making an error that she herself could probably have sorted.  
Feeling frustrated and mad, she left the palace and crossed over to the stables. At least the animals would make sense.  
*****  
Legolas sat with his ankle propped over one knee, his chin in his hand. “Something wrong?” he asked.  
Thranduil glared at him. “No.”  
His son lifted his eyebrows. “Do not tell me you and Tora had a fight.”  
“Fine. I won’t,” he replied.  
Legolas shook his head, shifting his position in the seat. “What happened?”  
“Nothing that concerns you,” Thranduil replied.  
“Come on. You’ve both been through a lot lately,” he said. “Surely a spat cannot put you in this mood?”  
His father slammed the book in front of him closed. “When I require your council, I will ask for it,” he said. “For what it is worth, I reassigned Aria to the laundry for her incompetence.”  
Legolas’s eyes went wide. “What? You took her away from Tora?”  
Thranduil muttered under his breath.  
“What did you do that for? Tora needs her, you cannot take her away from her!”  
“I have given her someone else.”  
Legolas snorted. “That is not much use.”  
“It is my decision,” his father said coldly.  
“Fine.” The younger man rose to his feet. “Never let it be said that you do not think things through.” With that, he left the room.  
Thranduil sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.


	29. Chapter 29

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

 

Tora fumed silently as she petted the horses, and fed them. Her anger bubbled in her blood, frustrated that Thranduil hadn’t listened to her.  
Anybody could make a mistake, and Aria was usually so dedicated to her work. Knowing that she wouldn’t have damaged the cloak on purpose, she felt it was completely unfair that she should be sent away to the one job in the palace that everybody hated.  
Using a stiff brush, she swept it through the tail of the horse she was tending to, Thranduil’s huge black stallion with gentle eyes and a soft nature. Murmering quietly to him as she worked, she patiently brushed all the tangles out of the magnificently long tail.  
Something made her go still, and she froze as she listened.  
The horse snorted softly, almost echoing her thoughts.  
They weren’t alone.  
Tora’s blood chilled, and she immediately flew back through time to the last time she had felt that feeling. Lifting her head, she gasped in fright as she saw someone standing in the doorway of the stable, silhouetted by the light outside.  
The guard who had raped her.  
*****

The captain of the guard rattled on, arguing his point with two of the soldiers who he’d brought before the King.  
Thranduil inhaled deeply, not the slightest bit interested in their petty squabble. Let them fight all they wanted, it wasn’t his concern. Until they started taking each other apart, he wasn’t going to intervene.  
His gaze dropped to a small bruise on the inside of his wrist, a mark left from where Tora had bitten him during sex. A heat flared through him as he remembered, the feel of her naked body on top of his, his face buried between her legs as she’d screamed the palace down. The feeling of her wet mouth sucking him hard, her hands squeezing and teasing him as he’d battled to have her come first. The fight to hold her in place as she’d exploded with the force of a thunderstorm.  
Biting his lip, he stood up. “Sort this nonsense out in your own time,” he snapped, interrupting the feud that was still going on. “This is not a matter for me to deal with. If you cannot behave like adults, maybe the children’s play area is more suited to you.”  
He strode out of the hall, slamming the door at his back and taking a deep breath.  
Where was Tora?  
He rubbed the back of his neck as he made his way through the passageways, searching in different rooms and halls as he passed, but finding no sign of her. Knowing she would still be mad at him for taking Aria from her, he knew she would be sulking somewhere. His boots made no noise as he swept along corridors, no sign of her anywhere.  
Making up his mind that the first thing he would do was to get her chosen servant back to her, he checked his study and their chambers, finding both empty. A grunt of frustration left him as he wondered where the hell she had disappeared to.  
*****  
“I’m surprised you haven’t been thrown out with the garbage,” the guard said quietly, taking slow steps into the stable. “No doubt you will be, eventually. You’re not fit to be Queen of this realm.”  
Tora stared at him, refusing to break his gaze and show weakness. Her heart pounded viciously in her chest as her adrenalin rose. She kept one hand on the back of the stallion, the warmth of him bringing her a small sense of comfort.  
“Thranduil will tire of you,” he continued. “You’ll outlive your usefulness. By the time I’ve finished with you, he will not ever look at you again. He won’t want to touch you, or go near you. I obviously didn’t do a thorough enough job the last time.” Venom dripped from his words.  
The distance between them was shortening.  
Tora breathed deeply. She was unarmed, and the silence around them was deafening. The guards must have gone on a break, as the stabled area was deserted.  
“He’ll kill you,” she said eventually.   
He sneered. “He won’t even know I was here, until they find your violated, broken body...that’s if I even let them find you.”  
She jumped back in fright as he leapt at her, but wasn’t fast enough. His fist tangled in her hair and she screamed, fighting against his hold. A swift backhander across her face sent stars bursting behind her eyes, and the world swirled around her as she felt her back crash violently against the stone floor. She struggled and kicked like a demon as his weight crushed her, terrified beyond anything she’d ever felt before. Vivid memories flashed back at what he’d put her through before, and she was filled with despair as she heard the fabric of her dress tearing.  
Tears poured down her face as she continued to try and dislodge his bulk, but she couldn’t move him. Taking a deep breath, she screamed one word as loud as she could.  
“Thranduil!”  
*****  
Thranduil’s head spun to his left as he heard Tora scream his name. The terrified scream for help had come from the stables. He ran across the courtyard, booting open the door.  
The guard they had been turning the kingdom upside down looking for had her on the floor, wedged in between her legs, trying to get under the skirts of her dress. Tora didn’t see him, as she was too busy trying to breathe through her panic and fight him off.  
Three or four long strides carried him across the stable floor as he withdrew his sword, swiping it across his body to his right with more anger and hatred than he ever though existed.   
Blood sprayed in all directions.  
The struggle stopped.  
The guard’s head landed with a thud on the floor, his body collapsing onto Tora.  
Thranduil swiftly booted the corpse from her, sending it rolling to the floor. Dropping his sword, he fell to his knees, lifting her into his arms and cradling her tightly against him.  
She shook violently, sobbing hysterically.  
“Sshhh, it’s over, my love,” he whispered. “He’s dead. It’s over.” He gently rocked her from side to side, tightening his hold on her as he tried to bring her some comfort.   
She gasped for air as she sobbed, her fists gripping the fabric of his tunic. The shaking wouldn’t stop, and she couldn’t get control of her tears.  
He pressed soft kisses to her cheek and her neck as she cried into him, whispering soft words in Sindarin. Anger flooded through him at the knowledge of how close she’d come to being raped again, how the monster had managed to get so near her, how his guards had disappeared at the one time they were needed. He closed his eyes, regret washing over him at the disagreement they’d had which had caused her to storm off in a temper.  
Very slowly, her sobs started to subside. His neck and hair were soaked with her tears, but he paid no attention. She had to come through this, and he would do whatever it took to get her there. Lifting his head finally, he roared for the guards, who eventually made an appearance.  
Their shocked faces conveyed their fear at letting down their King.  
He stood, keeping Tora in his embrace and lifting her as though she weighed nothing. “Get this garbage out of here and burn it,” he hissed. “Clean the mess, then report to Legolas once you are finished.”  
Mumbled apologies and promises met his ears as he swept past them, but he ignored them. The courtyard vanished behind him as he entered the palace, going straight to his chambers, instructing a guard along the way to send his son to him.  
Tora clung to him, still crying and shaking. Once inside the privacy of his rooms, he closed the door and crossed over to the couch, where he settled his weight on it with her across his legs.  
“Everything will be ok, my angel,” he whispered, cradling the back of her head with one hand and gently rubbing her back with the other. “It’s over now; it’s finished. He cannot hurt you anymore.”  
She gulped air in, her arms around his neck in a vice grip. “I’m sorry,” she cried.  
“Sshhh, there is nothing for you to be sorry for,” he murmered. “It is I who am sorry. I should never have taken Aria from you, we would never have fought and you would not have gone out to the stables.”  
She shuddered against him, and his hold on her tightened. “It’s my fault,” she whispered.  
He lifted his hand and pulled her back a little, gazing into her bloodshot eyes. “Stop this,” he told her, his words gentle. “It was not your fault. It is the fault of the guards who failed to see him, it is my fault for not being with you to protect you, for angering you and pushing you away.”  
An urgent knock at the door interrupted him, and he called for whoever it was to enter.  
Legolas appeared, shaking his head as he closed the door behind him, crossing the floor and dropping to his knees in front of them. “Tora, are you alright?” he asked, concern in his eyes.  
She nodded, trying to wipe her tears away.   
“I am so sorry this happened,” he said. “I shall go through every single guard personally and get to the bottom of how that beast managed to get into the palace grounds.” His hand touched her shoulder briefly in a gesture of comfort and friendship.  
Thranduil nodded, not releasing his hold on her. “My main concern right now are the guards in the stables,” he told his son. “They were nowhere to be seen, and I fail to think what would have happened had I not been outside looking for her.” His voice dropped, and he swallowed.  
“Do not blame yourself,” Legolas said, meeting his father’s eyes. “I will find who is at fault, and they will pay dearly for their mistake.”  
Thranduil pressed a kiss to Tora’s cheek. “I will have the stable guards brought before me, but not right now. Later...I will let you know,” he said.  
“Of course. What do you want me to do with them in the meantime?”  
“The dungeons,” he replied immediately. “Put a different watch on the stables.”  
“Done,” Legolas said, rising to his feet. “If I can do anything Tora, please let me know.”  
She nodded, still curled against Thranduil, and not trusting her voice to speak.  
He left the room, and the sound of him yelling down the hallway met their ears.  
“Relax, angel,” Thranduil said softly. “You’re safe in my arms.”  
*****  
At least an hour passed, with a comfortable silence between them. Tora stayed curled up into her lover, whose strong arms held her in a reassuring grip. She eventually managed to stop crying and shaking, and the tension left her as she absorbed the warmth and strength from Thranduil.  
He stayed where he was, contented to hold her until she felt like moving. Deep down, he was worried that all the progress she had made over the last few days might be taken from her.  
Only time would tell.  
After a while, she shifted from his knees, knowing her weight would be solid after keeping her position for that length of time. He stood, going only through to the other room and returning with a damp wash cloth, with which he proceeded to cleanse the slight wound on her cheek where the guard had struck her.   
Blue eyes gazed into hers as he set the cloth on the floor. “Are you alright?” he asked softly.  
She nodded. “I think so,” she said, her voice low. “I’m sorry I called you an asshole and stormed off. I shouldn’t question your judgement...I just didn’t want to lose Aria.”  
He shook his head, taking her hands in both of his. “Stop apologising,” he told her. “I will return her to you before the day is over, I promise. I have thought about it, and I made the wrong decision. I should not have taken her from you; she has been a rock for you since...” He trailed off, lost.  
“Since I was attacked,” she finished for him. “I shouldn’t have shouted at you and called you names, though. You saved my life, again. And I love you so much...I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”  
He lifted one hand and pressed a finger gently against her mouth. “Sshhh, my love. No more blaming yourself. If anything, I quite like that you answer me back.” A small smile accompanied his words. “No-one else will dare.”  
She met it with a faint smile of her own. “You deserve better than that,” she said. “If you hadn’t been outside, I would be dead by now. He told me as much.”  
Thranduil frowned. “What else did he say?”  
She took a deep breath. “He told me the first time that you’d never want to touch me again once he finished with me, and said it again today, said he hadn’t been thorough enough the last time. He said I’d be thrown out with the garbage, once you were tired of me.”  
The muscle in his cheek tightened as he clenched his teeth in anger. “Do not pay any thought to his poisonous words,” he ground out, struggling to keep his temper under control. The last thing Tora needed was a volatile partner ready to explode with rage. “They mean nothing. He meant nothing.”  
She closed her eyes briefly, trying to rid herself of the horrors that floated in front of her. “I really ought to bathe,” she said. “I’m covered in the bastard’s blood.”  
He nodded, shifting beside her. “Do you wish me to join you?” he asked, watching her carefully.  
A second passed before she answered. “Yes,” she said. “If you have-“  
He swooped down and crushed his mouth to hers, cutting off her flow of words. “Do not say what I know you were going to say,” he murmered against her. “I do not have anything better to do, so stop it.”  
She relaxed against him, enjoying his kiss, his touch. Pulling back, she smiled a little. “You don’t know I was going to say that,” she bluffed.  
He lifted an eyebrow over his shoulder as he crossed the room to lock the door, ensuring they wouldn’t be disturbed. “What were you going to say then?”  
She hesitated, lost for an honest reply, and he laughed.  
“I know your every thought, my angel,” he said softly, walking back to her and taking her hands in his again. “Every single thought. I can tell by your eyes when you are happy, when you are sad. When you are angry, when you want something. When you are tired, when you are aroused. I see everything.”  
“Well, I want to bathe,” she said, standing up on her toes and placing a kiss in the hollow of his throat. “And I want you to bathe with me.”  
“Consider it done, my love,” he said with a smile.


	30. Chapter 30

CHAPTER THIRTY

 

Tora rolled over in her sleep, her hand reaching out across the bed. She frowned and opened her eyes, knowing she was alone in the darkness. The space beside her was cool to touch, and she knew Thranduil had been up for quite a while before she had woken.  
She slid over to the edge of the bed and rose to her feet, shivering a little in the cool breeze that flickered the flames of the candles. Lifting his dark blue robe, she snuggled into the soft velvet as she wrapped it around her, exiting the bedroom.  
Her feet were silent as she wandered along the hallways, allowing her to present herself to one of the guards on duty.  
“Have you seen the King?” she asked.  
He jumped out of his skin, startled at her appearing before him. “N...no, m’lady,” he apologised. “I saw him but an hour ago, but not since.”  
She folded her arms over her chest. “Where was he going?”  
“Down to the dungeons, m’lady,” he told her hurriedly. “But they are no place for you to be, m’lady Tora,” he called after her as she turned and walked away.  
She ignored him, and silently made her way through the bowels of the palace in the darkness. Angry roars met her ears a long time before she reached the prison area, and she knew Thranduil was in full force down there.  
Crossing over the raised, uneven ledge, she concentrated on where to place her bare feet as she made her way further down. The angry shouting bellowed around her, echoing off the walls, increasing in volume as she closed the distance. She spotted Legolas standing in the doorway of one of the cells, shoulder leaning against the stone, arms folded as he watched whatever was going on inside.  
“You are lucky I have not taken your heads already!” Thranduil screamed, his voice full of rage. “My future wife would be dead if it was down to you! Each and every one of you are not worth the air you breathe!”  
Legolas shifted his position slightly.  
He jumped in fright as Tora touched a hand to his arm.  
“What’s going on?” she whispered.  
He inclined in towards the cell with a tilt of his head. “He’s off on one,” he whispered back. “I do not know if he will let them live to see daylight. He is beyond furious.”  
She turned her head as she heard mumbled pleas for mercy, quietly uttered apologies and promises never to let their King down again.  
“Your oaths mean nothing!” he roared. “You mean nothing!”  
She sighed quietly, withdrawing her hand from Legolas’s arm.  
“Not wise to interrupt him,” he advised softly.  
“Your blood will fill this room!” Thranduil bellowed. The rage in his voice was growing, and the metallic screech of a sword being unsheathed sounded.  
Tora quietly padded into the cell, not making a sound. Thranduil was facing her but with his head down, a petrified guard on his knees before him, head pulled back by his hair, the sword across his throat. Terrified eyes met hers as she stepped towards them. Five other guards were crouched along the wall to her left.  
Thranduil’s head shot up as she softly touched his shoulder, his eyes blazing with anger. She gently moved her hand to his cheek, slowly shaking her head, before dropping it to the hand that clenched his sword and slowly moving it back from the guard. Not breaking his gaze, she spoke to Legolas, sensing he had followed her in. “Put them in another cell, please,” she said.  
The guards hurriedly shuffled out, following the Prince and leaving them alone.  
She kept her hand over his, moving the sword until it was at his side. Light blue eyes held hers, the fury slowly dissipating, to be replaced by a perplexed look instead. Her gaze continued to hold his, and she waited until she was sure she could speak without invoking his temper. “This is not the way, my love,” she said softly.  
He shook his head, frowning in confusion. “They must be punished for what happened to you,” he whispered.  
“I think you have made your point,” she said. “You have taken the life of the one who wronged us. There is no need to take any more.”  
His confusion seemed to grow. “I do not understand,” he said, his voice low. “What happened...it should never have happened...you should never have been faced with that again.”  
“And if it wasn’t for you, I would’ve gone through it again,” she said. “Punishing the guards further will not change anything. You were there when I needed you, and that is what counts.”  
His fingers flexed under hers, grasping the handle of his sword. He looked down at it, almost as if he had forgotten he held it. “They deserve to die,” he whispered, lifting his anguished gaze back to hers.  
“No they don’t,” she told him. “I know what this is, my love. This is guilt.”  
He closed his eyes, turning away from her.  
She placed her hands on his cheeks and turned him back to her. “There is no guilt. Take comfort in the fact that you were with me, that everything has turned out for the best in the end. Let it go.”  
His eyes were filled with pain, guilt, and remorse as he gazed down at her. “I cannot imagine what he would have put you through,” he whispered, unshed tears shining in his eyes.  
“Then do not think of it,” she advised, standing on her toes and touching her mouth to his in a tender touch. “Think of where we are now, what we have between us, the future we have in front of us. Think of the strength we have, the strength we give each other.”   
His sword clattered to the floor, and his arms slid around her, crushing her against him. “I love you so much...I cannot bear to think of life without you,” he whispered brokenly against her neck.  
“I am not going anywhere,” she replied. “Except back to bed, and you are coming with me. It is far too cold down here.” She pulled back, studying him. “Let this go, baby. Let it go...for me.”  
“If that is what you wish,” he eventually relented.   
She nodded. “It is. Come on, take me back to bed.”  
He stooped and lifted his sword from the cold floor, re-sheathing it and gripping her hand tightly in his. He led her from the musty cell, pausing to tell Legolas that he was no longer needed. An air of defeat seemed to encompass him, but Tora knew she would be able to work on that. She tilted her head in acknowledgement to Legolas, following Thranduil back along the path away from the dungeons.  
*****  
Soft, warm lips trailed across Tora’s shoulder, rousing her from a deep sleep. She murmered, rolling over onto her back, her eyes slowly opening to find Thranduil leaning over her.   
“Wake up baby...I need to fuck,” he whispered urgently, dropping kisses down her neck. “I need you so bad...I’m so hard for you...I’m leaking for you...”  
Her insides clenched in anticipation at his words, her arms lifting and crossing over his shoulders. “Mmm, what a way to wake up,” she murmered, arching into his touch as his hands swept up and down her body.   
He continued to kiss her neck, nudging her thighs open with his knee and settling his weight in between. His hips ground against hers, and she gasped at the feel of his erection pressing demandingly against her soft core. He gripped her hands, pinning them down on either side of her head, lifting his head to gaze into her eyes.  
“Do you desire me?” he whispered.  
She grinned, biting her lower lip. “Yes,” she replied.  
His lips parted and he sucked in a deep breath as he nudged his hips forwards, pushing into her. A dazed look crossed his eyes as he sank deeper, until he was buried to the hilt in the soft, wet warmth of her. “Oh yes,” he whispered, starting to move in slow, steady thrusts. “Yes...this is what I need...”  
His head dropped to her shoulder as he sank his teeth into her neck, her knees lifting on either side of him in primal response. His thrusts went deeper, his grip on her hands tightened. Soft sighs of pleasure left her lips as she moved with him, her body in perfect tune to his. Sensing he needed a quick release, she twisted her hands free from his, and ran her fingertips down his sides and back up again.  
He reared up from her, a look of animal hunger blazing in the blue of his eyes, lifting himself back onto his knees and pulling her roughly with him. Her buttocks rested on his thighs as he gripped her behind her knees, forcing her legs apart. She reached behind her, pushing her hands against the carved wooden headboard, grinding down on him. The rhythmic movements of his hips sent blazing flames of passion through her body.  
He looked down, watching himself thrust in and out of her. “Look how good we are together,” he whispered, lifting heavy eyes back to hers. “Look how wet you are, how wet you’re making me.”  
She started to pant for breath, his erotic words catapulting her higher. He released his grip on her legs and trailed both hands down her chest, squeezing her breasts and rubbing her nipples. The overload of pleasure made her cry out and arch into his touch, desperate for release. One hand slid lower, and he licked his thumb before circling her clit.  
“Come for me baby,” he panted, feeling his own climax steadily approaching. “Come on me...I want to feel you explode, I want to hear you scream my name...”  
Her thighs flexed around his waist and she pushed hard against the headboard, circling her hips as she ground against him. His thumb rubbed in circles around her clitoris, his breathing becoming faster.  
“Let go, baby,” he whispered brokenly. “Let go and fall...I will catch you.”  
She arched her back, a cry escaping as her body tensed, her inner thighs soaked. “I’m coming baby...oh my God I’m coming...Thranduil!” Her voice lifted in a scream as a powerful orgasm ripped from her toes through her entire body, making her rear up off the bed. He gripped her hips and pounded into her, hard and fast, cursing under his breath. He growled a deep roar as he reached his orgasm, spilling everything he had into her depths as she flexed and shuddered around him.  
He dropped his weight onto his hands on either side of her, his arms shaking as he panted for breath. She reached up and ran a hand through his long hair, an exhausted smile on her face.  
“I take it you feel better after that?” she teased.  
He lifted his head, his hair tickling her as he moved. “This is your fault,” he panted, shifting his weight and rolling to one side, taking her with him. “You are a menace.”  
She laughed, still gasping for breath as little aftershocks shuddered through her. “And how is it my fault?” she asked.  
“Because I had a dream that you were on your knees, sucking me, and when I awoke you had that cute ass of yours pressed tightly against me,” he said, staring at the roof above them. His hand trailed lazily through her hair. “I had a hard-on that I did not know what the hell to do with.”  
She laughed, lifting herself onto his chest and kissing his full mouth. “I can’t be blamed for what goes on in your mind when you are asleep.”  
He arched an eyebrow, and her grin widened.”It seems I have a permanent erection when you are around,” he muttered, looking back to the roof again. “If that is not your fault, then who is to blame?”  
“You, for thinking sexy thoughts all the time,” she murmered, snuggling against his chest. The thump-thump of his heartbeat sounded like music to her ears.  
“Ah, but you put those sexy thoughts there,” he said. “I have been meaning to mention the trousers you wear.”  
“What’s wrong with them?”  
“Everything,” he said immediately. “They are so tight...every time you walk past me, I cannot help but think of being buried between those legs.”  
Her body shook with laughter. “You do not wish me to wear them?”  
“I do not wish others to see you the way I do, or think what I do,” he said, still playing with her hair.  
She snorted. “I can assure you, others do not,” she told him. “Only you venture down that path of debauchery.”  
“With the tops that you wear, who could blame me?” he protested. “They hug your breasts the way only my hands should. I was watching you during the last council meeting...your nipples were so hard, all I could think about was kissing them, sucking them...dammit.”  
She rolled off him, howling with laughter. “Oh my God, this is so funny,” she gasped, holding her side as she laughed. “Maybe I should put my mind to really distracting you during your meetings. I could have fun with that.”  
“Do not dare,” he warned. “It is difficult enough to concentrate without you going out of your way to arouse me further. Like I said...you are a menace. And stop laughing.”  
That made her laugh harder, and she rolled over onto her front, wiping tears of merriment away. “Then think of it as a way to get you through those boring, stuffy meetings, with everybody arguing and fighting around you,” she said, trying to put on a serious face.  
And failing miserable as he slid a sideways glance at her.  
She collapsed onto the pillow beside him, her evil mind already hard at work. This was something she could pull Aria into, and have a whole lot of fun in the process.  
He deserved to be teased now and again.


	31. Chapter 31

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

 

Tora grinned mischievously. Aria had indeed helped her on her venture, and the pair had roared and laughed like childish pranksters as they had hatched details out between them.   
Thranduil was in for a shock.  
She made her way towards the meeting room, with Legolas and the rest of the lords walking behind her. A wicked smirk tugged at her lips the closer to the room she went, and she made a mental effort to keep her face straight once in the King’s presence.  
Throwing the doors wide, she entered the large room, leading the others behind her. Thranduil turned at their entrance, watching them file into the room.  
Tora merely smiled at him as she approached the seat which sat at the top end of the table adjacent to his. She wore a white top that was sculpted to her body, and fairly tight. From just above her bustline to the neck, the clothing was white lace, showing the glow of peach flesh underneath, and a tantalising view of her cleavage.  
Thranduil swallowed.  
She sat as he pulled her seat out for her, crossing one leg over the other. The pale blue skirt she had chosen fell in folds to her feet, the silky fabric parting at her movement to reveal a slit that went to the top of her thigh.  
His swift intake of breath was audible behind her.   
“I thought we discussed this,” he whispered in her ear, as he helped her move the seat closer to the table.   
“Discussed what?” she asked innocently, lifting her blue eyes to his.  
He glared at her for a moment, his nostrils flaring. She smirked as he turned away to start the meeting.  
Several times he paced the room as he talked, circling the table. Every time he neared her, she uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, and each time he stuttered and coughed. The angle of her chair was perfect so that only he could see the long, bare leg she was exposing. Each time she glanced up at him she was met with an ice-cold glare, but continued to smirk to herself in satisfaction.  
This was fun.  
He sat back down again with a sigh of frustration, his gaze darting to her leg which was right in his line of vision.   
The lead she had been writing with was lying on the edge of the table, and the vibration from him throwing himself onto his chair caused it to roll onto the floor. He went to reach for it, but she was faster. She leaned down and picked it up, rising slowly and giving him a prefect view of her cleavage through the delicate lace.  
Swallowing, he forced himself to concentrate on matters at hand.  
Tora was going to pay for this.  
*****  
Chairs creaked across the floor as the assembled group rose, muttering and talking between themselves. The meeting had drawn to an early close, with hardly anything being resolved. Tora stood and walked alongside Legolas, following the others from the room.  
Thranduil appeared behind her as they reached the door. “A word, please,” he said.  
“I shall catch up with you later,” Legolas said, disappearing.  
Thranduil closed the door and locked it, before spinning round to face her.  
He gripped her upper arms and spun her against the door, crushing her against it with his body as his mouth crashed down onto hers, his hands feverishly lifting her skirt. She tangled her hands in his hair, gasping in delight as his tongue swept across her lower lip before pushing insistently into her mouth. Warm fingers found their way in between her legs, sliding into her wet core with ease, and she moaned against his mouth.  
“You are such a tease,” he gasped, tearing his mouth from hers. “Do you have any idea how difficult it was to sit through that boring nonsense, with you doing that right in front of me?”  
She didn’t answer, couldn’t answer, as his mouth wandered down her neck. She wriggled against him as he started to bite her, his tongue soothing the tender areas of flesh where his teeth had been. Lifting her in a swift move, he wrapped her legs around him and fumbled with his trousers.  
“All I could think about was being inside you,” he panted. “To feel your hot fluid dripping around me.”  
A stifled cry sounded from her as he pushed into her, pounding her hard against the door. The wood at her back wasn’t the most comfortable surface, but she wasn’t going to complain. Not when she had Thranduil right where she wanted him.  
He ground his hips in a circular motion as he thrust into her, hard, fast, and desperate to come in her. Her body copied his actions, and he growled a low rumble of pleasure as his senses went into overload. The room around them seemed to fade away to nothing as they focused on each other, the pleasure they were giving and taking.   
Tora crossed her heels over his thighs, flexing hers each time he pumped into her. The door behind her thumped with each of his movements, and she was sure any guards passing would know what was going on in the room.  
“I need to come,” he growled in her ear, still biting and licking her. “I need to come now...”  
She beat him to it, but only by a split second, as her insides tightened and clenched like an iron fist around his length, squeezing him to his orgasm. He collapsed his weight against her, pinning her against the door, his body shuddering as he spurted deep within her. Panting for breath, he braced his arms on the wood as he steadied himself.  
“Like I said...menace,” he whispered, turning to kiss her tenderly.  
She smiled into his kiss. “I know nothing of what you speak,” she whispered back.  
He wrapped his arms around her back and eased her away from the door, slowly lowering her to the floor as he pulled out of her. Brushing her hair away from her face, he smiled down at her and lowered his head, kissing her with a loving touch. “I love you, my little menace,” he murmered, and she laughed.  
“I love you too,” she told him. “I just hope there are no guards out in the hallway!”  
He shrugged, caressing her cheek. “I do not care,” he said, his arrogant confidence blazing to life. “I am the King, you are my woman, and if we want to fuck against every door in the palace, then we shall.” He refastened his trousers as he spoke.  
She laughed, taking his hand and wrapping her fingers through his. “I am not doing the walk of shame by myself,” she told him. “You can come with me.”  
“That is fine with me,” he replied. He lifted his other hand and traced a finger over an impressive bite mark on her neck. “Nice touch.”  
“Insatiable,” she muttered as he opened the door with a smirk.  
“Teased and taunted beyond belief,” he corrected.  
They walked along the hallway, passing a guard who blushed and lowered his head as they passed.  
Tora glanced at Thranduil, her mouth open in horror, but he merely grinned and led her away.  
*****  
“I have received word from Mithrandir,” Thranduil said over dinner later that night.  
Tora froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. “What did he say?” she asked, putting it back on her plate.  
“He wishes to visit,” he said.  
She considered his words, a slight sadness washing over her. “I wonder if he expects me to return with him,” she said.  
Blue eyes filled with fear lifted to hers, and only then did she realise she had voiced her thoughts aloud. “Will you go?” he asked.  
She glared at him. “Do you think I will?” she challenged.  
“I would hope not,” he said, lowering his eyes to his plate.  
She frowned. This was an insecure side of him that she rarely saw, normally being faced with the confident, strong ruler. “Baby...I do not wish to go anywhere if you are not with me,” she said softly, reaching over and taking his hand in hers.  
Across from her, Legolas coughed. “I think my father worries he is not making you as happy as he wishes to,” he observed, watching the two of them.  
Her frown deepened. “Why the hell not? Thranduil?”  
“I do wonder if you miss your old life,” he admitted.  
She grunted in exasperation. “My life is with you, end of story. Get those ridiculous ideas out of your head and keep them out. Have you responded to his request?”  
“No,” he replied. “I wanted to tell you before I did anything.”  
She shrugged. “So invite him, if you are comfortable with that,” she said. She released his hand and picked up her fork again. “I am kind of curious as to why he sent me here under false pretences.”  
“I think I know why,” Legolas said. “I think the old wizard was on a match-making scheme, and wanted to see if you two would work well together.” He shrugged. “He was right.”  
Thranduil smiled, pushing his food around. Tora could tell he was still insecure, and it troubled her.  
“Anyway, if you will excuse me,” Legolas said, and rose from his chair.  
His father nodded, and Tora smiled as he left the table.  
“What’s the matter, my love?” she asked, once he had left the room.  
He sighed, meeting her gaze. “Nothing.”  
“You lie badly,” she informed him.  
“I actually have something for you...a gift,” he said. “I bought it quite a while back, but I was not sure whether to give you it or not.”  
She set her fork back down again, folding her arms and watching him with curiosity.  
“I bought this once when I was out in the villages,” he said, frowning as he took a small velvet pouch from the folds of his cloak. “But I returned that day to something so horrific, I completely forgot about it.” Blue eyes lifted to hers, bright with unshed tears. “After that, I did not know what to do with it, as I did not want it to bring back bad memories for either of us.”  
She swallowed, knowing he was referring to the day when the exiled guard had raped her. “If you are comfortable showing me it, then I am too. If you do not wish to, then that is alright.”  
“If you wish to, you may see it,” he said. His voice was so low and sad, an ache flowed through her heart. “But if you do not wish to keep it, I understand.”  
He lifted her hand, placing the pouch in her palm. She glanced from it to him, but he kept his eyes on her hand. Slowly undoing the drawstring, she tipped the small bag so the contents dropped into her hand.  
She gasped.   
“Oh Thranduil...it’s beautiful,” she whispered, lifting her eyes to his. “This is so...oh my...I do not deserve something as beautiful as this.” Tears burned her eyes.  
He gently lifted the silver ring from her hand, sliding it onto the index finger of her right hand. The sunlight sparkled on the pale blue gems, reflecting a dazzling shine.  
He held her hand in his, reaching over with his other to wipe away a tear that dropped onto her cheek.  
“It is perfect,” she whispered. “It’s the exact colour of your eyes...that makes it so significant.”  
A tender smile tugged at his mouth. “I thought at the time you would like it because of the colour,” he told her. “I just did not know...” He trailed off.  
She rose from her seat, pressing her mouth to his. “I love you so much,” she whispered against him, before pulling back. “This means so much because it will not mean anything for the day you bought it; it will symbolise the love between us that helped me to get through what happened. It will stand for the bond that ties us together.”  
He smiled, a slight pink tinge to his cheeks. “I like the way you have chosen to regard it,” he told her. “And I have a suggestion, if you wish to hear it.”  
“Of course,” she said, intrigued. She drew her gaze away from the ring on her finger, looking back to her lover.  
“I thought we could invite Mithrandir for the visit he wishes to make,” he said. “But rather than send a letter...I thought we could send a wedding invite instead.”  
Her mouth opened in surprise. “You want to either get married really quickly, or you want to put off Gandalf’s visit,” she said. “I’m not sure which it is.”  
He grinned. “What do you think? I want us to be wed, I want you as my wife, my Queen, the mother of any children we may have in the future,” he said. “The grumpy old wizard has no bearing on that, my love. I just want you to be my wife.”  
She gripped his hand in hers, unable to stop the smile that lit up her features.   
“Then we have a wedding to plan, and invites to send,” she said.   
“Have you decided what you wish as regards to your wedding gown?” he asked, studying her.  
“No, not really,” she replied. “I did start making some designs, but I threw them away.”  
He nodded, pursing his full mouth as he lowered his gaze, remembering the day he had left her drawing her ideas. “I understand. Why don’t you meet with the seamstress who takes care of my clothes? She is the best, and I am sure between you, you will come up with something.”  
“I might just do that,” she agreed. “Is she in the palace during the day?”  
“Yes. She resides in the closest village, but her days are spent in here,” he replied. “She has been tailoring my clothes for centuries, and did a lot for my father too.”  
“Is there any particular colour or style that appeals to you?” she asked, taking a drink of her tea which was almost cold.  
He smiled. “No. I shall leave that up to your clever, creative mind,” he said. “I know that whatever you come up with, you will look beautiful in it.” A genuine, warm smile accompanied his words, and the butterflies in her stomach took flight.


	32. Chapter 32

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

 

Tora sighed, her nerves getting the better of her. Hovering at her side, Aria fluttered around like a nervous butterfly, which didn’t help her state of mind. She chattered on incessantly, but Tora wasn’t absorbing anything she was saying.  
“Tora! Are you with me?” the servant asked impatiently, snapping her fingers in front of her face.  
“Yes, yes I am,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m just a bit of a mess just now, that’s all. I’m listening.”  
“No you’re not,” she shot back. “You have nothing to be nervous about. The King is going to collapse when he sees you.”  
“Oh dear God,” Tora muttered.  
Aria laughed, the sound lifting the tense air a little. “Your gown is out of this world,” she said softly, her eyes meeting those of her mistress.  
Tora felt the sting of tears.  
“Oh no...no crying on your wedding day,” the servant instructed. “It is considered bad luck, and there shall be no tears today! Come on...stand up, let me get a good look at you.”  
She swallowed her emotions, and stood, towering over the smaller elf.  
Her gown was white satin covered with a feather-light mesh, onto which literally thousands of silver gems had been stitched, covering the entire gown. The neckline was cut into a deep V between her breasts, the waist nipped tightly against her body, with the skirts hugging her thighs before flaring out towards the floor.  
Aria shook her head. “Absolutely stunning, my Queen,” she whispered.  
Tora laughed, despite her nerves. “I’m not Queen yet,” she reminded her.  
“Semantics,” she scoffed with a dismissive wave of her hand. “It’s only a matter of time now, like as in less than half an hour or something.”  
“Holy shit,” Tora muttered, her nerves on the rise again.  
Aria fiddled with her hair, smoothing the poker straight lengths over her shoulders and down her back. The top sections were braided away from her face, drawing attention to the heavy eye make-up that had been applied.  
The door knocked, making Tora almost jump out of her skin.  
“It will be the Prince,” Aria told her, leaving her to go and open the door. “See? I told you.” She grinned triumphantly as Legolas stepped into the room, a wide grin on his face.  
“Wow,” he said, putting his hands on his hips. “Every inch the Queen. My father is going to be absolutely dumbstruck.”  
“Holy fuck...she has him collapsing, and you have him unable to speak. This is testing my nerves to the limit,” Tora ranted, then started laughing. “Oh my God...I didn’t think I would be so fucking nervous..!”  
She sank back onto the seat behind her, taking a deep breath and holding her head in her hands.  
“Hey.”  
She looked up to see Legolas had dropped to a squat in front of her. “You look beautiful, everything is going to go great, and you shall be fine. My father is going to love you even more than he already does, although I have to say he was getting a little impatient when I last saw him.” He ended with a smile. “So ditch those nerves, stick a smile on, and let’s go get you married, before he starts getting mad with everybody.”  
She gazed into his blue eyes, drawing strength from him in the same way she did his father. “I can do this,” she whispered, nodding her head. “Alright, I can do this.” Rising to her feet, she took a massive breath, determined she was in control of her anxiety.  
Legolas smiled, holding his arm out for her. She slid her arm through his, lifted her skirts slightly, and followed him out of the room. Aria followed close behind, fussing over her as they passed through the palace.  
The walk to the entrance seemed to last for miles, and several times she swallowed and tightened her grip on her companion’s arm. Each time he glanced at her, shaking his head in amusement, but saying nothing.  
They stepped through the open doors onto the stone bridge, the sunlight harsh after being inside.  
Thranduil turned instantly, and froze.  
Tora was _breathtakingly gorgeous _. The sun reflected off the thousands of silver gems on her gown, sparkling brighter than the stars. Her hair streamed over her shoulders, caressing the sides of her breasts as it fell to her waist. Her eyes held his, and he could sense the uncertainty from where he stood.__  
His lips curled into a smile, and Legolas looked at her and said something, to which she met his gaze and nodded.  
They stepped forwards, walking over the bridge.  
Crowds of elves, dwarves, and humans fell silent as they walked through the centre, heading towards the King who stood furthest away. Tora held his gaze as she walked, each step bringing her closer to the only person in the world who had captured her heart.  
The sun shone on his light blond hair, giving it a golden hue. His cloak was deep blue and seemed almost metallic in the bright light as the bottom trailed on the grass at his feet. His light blue eyes sparkled, his emotions clear in the depths. His smile widened the closer they got to him.  
Unable to take her eyes off him, she was vaguely aware of Legolas releasing his hold on her and handing her over to his father, before discreetly stepping back. Thranduil lifted her hand and pressed a soft kiss there, but said nothing, instead turning to the elf priest and lowering himself to his knees.  
Tora followed suit, her hand clasped tightly in his.  
The sound of birds chirping in the surrounding forest was the only sound for a few seconds, before the elf who stood in front of them began to speak. He went through the traditional vows for marriage before asking if they wanted to say anything.  
Thranduil stood, pulling her to her feet before him. She gazed up at him, wondering what he was going to say. Silently she was grateful she wasn’t required to say anything; Aria had told her it was customary for the groom to speak publically, speaking for himself and his wife.  
“Never did I think I would fall in love again,” he said, his velvet voice sweeping over her like a lover’s caress. “I never expected to, after spending centuries alone. The years have passed, and the feeling of loneliness grew and grew, until it became something so large, it seemed to take over everything.” He paused. “And then you came into my life, Tora. You made the sun shine again, you made the stars sparkle in the sky. You gave meaning to everything around you, and to my existence. You made each long, lonely year seem worth the wait.”  
He lifted one hand from hers and gently ran the side of his forefinger down her cheek.  
“You stand shoulder to shoulder with me. You challenge me where others would not. You make me laugh, you make me crazy. You are part of me, and will be until time runs out. I love you Tora, with every beat of my heart, with everything that I am. I will move heaven and earth to keep you happy, to show you how much I love you, and this I promise.”  
He paused again, taking a deep breath as he saw unshed tears sparkling in the blue eyes that gazed into his.  
“My soulmate, my lover, my wife. I love you Tora, and I always will.”  
He leaned down, tipping her chin up as he did so, his mouth meeting hers in a slow, tender kiss that sent sparks through both of them. Her arms settled around his neck as he slid his around her waist, pulling her flush against him.  
The crowds erupted; clapping, cheering, whistling, jumping up and down, hollering and yelling loud enough to wake the dead.  
Thranduil didn’t release her, instead he angled his head and deepened the kiss, his heart bursting with happiness at finally making her his wife. He ignored the hooting and hollering from those gathered, lost in the feel of her body against his, her mouth kissing him with all the love she had.  
Slowly and reluctantly dragging his mouth from hers, he sank his teeth into his bottom lip as he gazed at her mouth, slightly swollen from their kiss. “I love you, my Queen,” he whispered, knowing only she could hear over the racket the crowds were making.  
“I love you too, my King,” she replied with a smile.  
They stared into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, before he hauled her back against him and claimed her mouth again, totally ignoring the insistent muttering from Legolas that surely they could carry on with that nonsense later.  
*****  
After the formalities had taken place, such as separating the couple long enough for them to exchange wedding rings and for Thranduil to crown Tora officially as Queen, the crowds hurried back into the palace grounds to celebrate. Alcohol and food were abundant, as was the jovial atmosphere that swept through the realm.  
Thranduil and Tora sat beside each other holding hands throughout the feast, with lots of joking and hilarity amongst the guests and well-wishers. Legolas finally gave up trying to get them to let go of each other for even two seconds, huffing cheerfully about maybe he should find himself a wife and discover for himself what the damned appeal was about constant touching and holding.  
Nobody got to dance with Tora the entire day, as Thranduil swept her onto the dancefloor and claimed her as his own to dance with. They spent hours and hours circling the floor, lost in each other and completely oblivious to those around them.  
Guests started to flop eventually towards mid-evening as the wine flowed freely, with some giving up the party mood and falling asleep wherever they were. The first ones out were the humans from Lake Town, which didn’t surprise either of the ruling couple.  
“They become drunk so easily,” Thranduil mused, looking over Tora’s head at two men who were sprawled out in the corner of the room, snoring loudly.  
She grinned, touching her mouth softly against the smooth skin of his neck. “Who cares?” she murmered. “I know that no matter how intoxicated they get, they will never feel as good as I do right now.”  
He smiled down at her, still amazed that she was his wife. “I love you so much,” he whispered.  
“I love you so much more,” she whispered back, lifting her mouth for his kiss.  
“For crying out loud you two, lay off the smooching until you retire for the night,” Legolas quipped, swirling past with Aria in his arms.  
“Go do your own smooching,” Thranduil said as he lifted his mouth from hers, only to lower it again.  
She giggled into him, well aware that her servant had eyes for her son-in-law, and had been smitten for a long time. The muscles under his tunic rippled in response as her hands slowly caressed under the velvet of his cloak, and his arms tightened around her.  
“I wish we could get out of here,” he murmered against her neck as his mouth wandered. “As much as I adore your gown my love, I would prefer it on the floor at your feet.”  
She sighed in pleasure at the warm, wet kisses he was placing on her flesh, closing her eyes and arching into his touch. “All in good time baby, we can’t leave just yet. It would seem rather improper.”  
He kissed his way back to her mouth, murmering softly in Sindarin, claiming her lips again with his own.  
“Can’t you give it a rest?” Legolas demanded, spinning past them again and disappearing into the crowd of dancers with Aria.  
Tora started to laugh, eventually breaking the kiss. “I suppose he’s right,” she said reluctantly.  
Thranduil snorted. “Have you spoken to Mithrandir yet?” he asked.  
“No, I was looking for him, but I haven’t seen him yet,” she replied.  
“Now might be a good time then,” he said, his gaze lifting to somewhere over her shoulder. “He is over there with some of the dwarves. If you do not speak to him now, I will carry you off and ravish you somewhere.”  
“Promises,” she laughed, sliding her arms down from his broad shoulders and taking his hand in hers. “Come with me. We should both speak with him.”  
She led him through the crowds, coming to a stop before the wizard, who looked up from his companions as he became aware of her approach.  
A large grin appeared on his weathered face. “Tora! Thranduil!” he said, holding his arms out.  
Tora released her husband’s hand and stepped into the embrace, hugging him tightly. “We have so much to thank you for,” she said, tears burning her eyes. She pulled back to look at him. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”  
“Me? I..oh goodness...yes,” he said, ending on a laugh. “I knew you would be a match made in heaven. You just needed a little push together. I am sorry for lying to you my dear, and keeping you in the dark. I wanted you to be happy for once in your life, and I knew that Thranduil would do that.”  
“I will spend eternity ensuring she is happy, Mithrandir,” Thranduil said behind her, shaking the wizard’s hand. “Thankyou for what you have done for us.”  
Gandalf grinned wider. “Magic does not always come in the form of spells and potions,” he said. “Sometimes all it takes is the two right people to come together, and the magic happens itself.”  
Tora turned and met Thranduil’s eyes. “I agree,” she murmered.  
The night rolled on, with more and more guests dropping away under the influence of the potent wine. Eventually only around a quarter of them were still conscious, and Tora shook her head in amusement.  
“I think maybe we can make our escape,” she whispered, leaning over Thranduil’s shoulder and softly kissing just below his ear. “I don’t think anyone will notice if we leave now.”  
He turned his head so she had a view of his profile, a smirk on his lips. “What are we waiting for?” he said, rising to his feet and taking her hand. She entwined her fingers through his, following him as he led her through the carnage that consisted of drunk and over-fed well-wishers and party-goers. Once they were out in the dimly lit passageway, she stopped.  
“Are you alright?” he asked, turning to her.  
“Yes,” she replied. “I haven’t really had the chance today, but I have a gift for you.”  
He smiled, stepping closer to her and tucking her hair behind her ear. “I need no gift, my love. I have you.”  
“That may be so, but I think you might like this one,” she said softly.  
He tipped her chin up, brushing his mouth against hers. “What is it?”  
She took his hand, sliding it between them until she held it with his open palm against her stomach, watching him.  
His eyes widened, his mouth dropping open. “You are having my child?” he gasped.  
She bit her lip, nodding. “Yes,” she whispered. “Are you happy?”  
He stared at her for a second or two, before he roared and scooped her up into his arms. She laughed at his enthusiasm, wrapping her arms around his neck, and meeting his mouth for a kiss.  
“I’m so glad you’re happy,” she said.  
“Nothing could make me happier,” he said, his eyes reflecting the love he felt in his heart. “My wife is carrying my child...I shall never forget this day.”  
He turned, carrying his wife away from the celebrations and down the hallway, where they could have their own private celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Thranduil and Tora have a happy-ever-after ending, complete with a baby elf on the way. His love for her was strong enough to take her through the worst horror of her life, and the strength between them bonds them forever.   
> I hope you have enjoyed reading their story as much as I did writing it, and if anyone's interested, my new story Indigo And Amethyst starts tomorrow.  
> Thankyou everybody for the kudos and comments, and keep Thranduilling!! x


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